Dawning Affliction
by Shigure-san
Summary: DRACOxHARRY (Co-written with Yuki-Kiba-Chan) Forced into a marriage with an abusive, overbearing Draco Malfoy, Harry struggles to survive his new lot in life. But being part of the Malfoy family, he is now privy to their darkest and most dreaded secrets. MPREG.
1. 1- Licentious Proposals

**Title:** Dawning Affliction  
**Author:** Shigure-san and Yuki-Kiba-Chan  
**Rating: **NC-17 (Suitable for Mature Readers Only)  
**Pairings:** Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter  
**Warnings:** Abuse, Anal, Angst, VERY Bad Language, Rape (Non-con), Dubious consent, HJ, Male Homosexual relationships, Slash, Oral, Violence, Graphic Lemon/Lime (scenes of a sexual nature), Threesome, Moresome, Bondage, MPREG -_ PURPOSEFULLY CONFUSED BDSM and D/s._  
**Disclaimer:** We do not own ANY trademarks of 'Harry Potter'. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. We merely own this story which we make no money from.

**Summary:** (Co-written with Yuki-Kiba-Chan) Forced into a marriage with an abusive, overbearing Draco Malfoy, Harry struggles to survive his new lot in life. But being part of the Malfoy family, he is now privy to their darkest and most dreaded secrets.

**Author's Note:**  
IMPORTANT: This story is set after the fall of Voldemort, compliant with all books but not the epilogue of _Deathly Hallows_. And (DH SPOILER) Snape is still alive – Harry saved him after Nagini's bite, the how is not really important, just don't be confused that he is still there lol. I co-wrote this with my best friend of over 10 years, Yuki-Kiba-Chan a few years ago now but finally decided to post here. She isn't on here but find her on DeviantART at yuki-kiba-chan. deviantart .com (remove the two spaces). It's a few years old now but we loved writing it so we hope you enjoy reading it. how the scene is flowing.

**Please note this is the censored verson (no sex is shown and will be cut out). To read the sex scenes please visit the links on my profile page.**

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[One]  
**Licentious Proposals**

Sunlight glared patronisingly in through the windows of the Headmaster's office where he sat – no where he had been _guided_ into a chair by the Headmaster, Severus Snape (however grudgingly) to stop him from tumbling to the floor when his knees began to quiver menacingly. The ashes of the dead fire in the cold hearth held Harry Potter's gaze as he felt his body collapse into his seat, the Headmaster's hand lingering almost reassuringly on his shoulder before shuddering away as if the supportive gesture had never been.

An impatient sigh came from the imposing man that stood at a distance to his left – the only other occupant of the room that was not the Potion's Master. Harry winced at the noise of disdain the other man let through his teeth. His chest had begun to tighten maddeningly at the words that had he had just heard and it hadn't seemed to stop. His heart thudded madly, the blood rushing to his head until he felt quite giddy – even when sitting. His ribs _hurt_ with the pressure and he felt a trickle of bile slither up his throat when he tried to force out words.

Pity, it was heavy in the eyes of Severus Snape when they flicked to him between glares at the platinum Blond across the room. It was far worse than the loathing and superiority that Lucius Malfoy was offering.

"I…" Harry choked on his words. He hadn't felt this incapable of words since the war had plummeted to an end with Voldemort's last, vile breath. "I can't possibly be made to do this," He ground out, no real force or belief behind the insistence. He brought his gaze up from the dead fire to Snape beside him, disgusted with how _imploring_ he must look. But this was the only man that could help him if it were possible.

They had been at an odd truce since the incident in the forest, he had seen Snape's memories, he had _saved_ him – and of course, since then, neither of them had breathed a word about any of it. (In fact when he had been summoned here for this _meeting_ he had assumed it was to finally discuss it – he had not been prepared to face Lucius Malfoy and his…indecent proposals). They had carried on as normal, betrayed only by moments such as this, where Snape was his last hope and the Potion's Master grudgingly (though swiftly) leapt to his defence.

"It can't be…can't be _legal_ much less moral!" He declared, his voice strengthening now that he saw the lack of hope, the lack of _everything_ but pity in those unfathomably dark eyes. "I…I killed Voldemort! I'm…I'm bloody _Harry Potter_! Surely there is something that you can find that'll…that'll–"  
"Exempt you?" Lucius Malfoy chimed from his stone-set position just across from him. The Blond gave a menacing, pitying chuckle. "Honestly, Mr Potter, hold _some_ dignity – some sense of _duty_–"  
"Duty?!" Harry spat with a sneer, leaping to his feet as white-hot fury resuscitated his previously petrified limbs. He always had had a fiery temper…

"Don't talk to _me _of duty! You bloody turncoat! You spent the better part of your life licking Voldemort's ar–"  
"Potter, curb your tongue." The cool, impassive voice swept over him and Harry whirled on his feet to glare at the man he was counting on to be his saviour. He kept his mouth firmly shut over the stream of insults he wished to unleash on Malfoy, but not over his accusations.

"I've given everything I had to save you all and I won't give any more," he clenched his teeth at his fury, grinding them until his gums ached in protest. "I won't do it. _Ever_. You can't make me. You can't _force_ me! Heck your prissy, good-for-nothing, _ponce_ of a son didn't even have the balls to come and ask me himself!"  
"Some of us have a sense of _decorum,_ Mr Potter," Lucius Malfoy leered, straightening painfully at the insults hurled at his only son. "It is tradition for the parent or guardian to ask after your hand – if you had not been brought up in the mud with _muggles_ perhaps you'd _understand_…"

Harry threw the older man his darkest glare, his hands curling into fists – fists that wanted nothing more than to pound into the man's skull until it cracked under the pressure. He hated this man, even more than his cowardly son who had sent his father here to fetch him like an unworthy dog that had been left outside. "Way I see it is you're not asking," Harry growled. "You're _telling_ me. You're telling me I have to marry your vile son but I won't! You think I don't know what you're like – the lot of you? You'd have me whipped and then begging at his feet for forgiveness for a crime I didn't commit and I _won't_ do it."

"I am afraid, Mr Potter, you have no choice," Snape sneered, alongside Lucius who was rather offended at the accusations that were being spat about his son. Even if they were true…

"Ah Draco, you are here. What has kept you?" Lucius asked, caressing the head of his cane when his son entered the room. Draco looked blindly over at Potter, then back at his father and slid his hands into his pockets.

"I was held up," Draco informed them, careful not to reveal too much, evidently.  
"You needn't have bothered," Harry sneered, "Because I was just leaving." He brushed past Draco without so much as _gracing_ him with a _look_. He was not a child anymore – their school days were long ago and he wasn't going to be used for another's purpose again. "You can lock me up in _Azkaban_ and I would never look twice at you," Harry growled, reaching for the pot of floo powder at the hearth. No sooner had he reached it, however, the pot of powder in his hand grew white-hot.

Harry screamed, his flesh sizzling revolting as he threw the pot away from him, the clay bursting open on the floor – the powder scattered across the carpet. Wincing from pain, Harry glared back at a smug looking Draco Malfoy. "That was bloody stupid," he snarled, bringing his wand to heal his blistering hand before any treacherous, tears of pain could prick at his eyes.

"There is, regrettably no way to escape this, Potter," Snape explained slowly as he moved forwards to repair the pot, floating the spilled powder back into it one more. He leant up to place the pot back on the mantle above the fireplace – this, however, allowed his dark eyes to fall over Harry once he was done. "I have explained, have I not, that the Black fortune (which you have been using to support your living since your own family's money dried up with your Hogwart's expenditures) is intricately tied to this union?"  
Harry flinched in revulsion at the suggestion that Lucius had put across – no _ordered_ him to carry out with.  
"I don't care," Harry murmured darkly, staring at Snape, the only person (oddly enough) that he could stand to look at right now, though he felt both the Malfoy's stares bore into his back like hot pokers through his flimsy flesh. "Take the money, take Grimmauld Place – I'd rather live on the _streets_ like a beggar than earn my way in Malfoy's bed."

Snape raised his brows at his words, his gaze flicking to the two blond men behind Harry before venturing speech. "Admirable sentiments, Potter, however you misunderstand the full extent of what losing your rights to the Black family's…_insurmountable_ fortune means. You are aware, of course, that that inheritance is rivalled only the Malfoy family's in this country?"  
Harry shrugged. "I know they want it," he stated simply, "Their greed knows no bounds. They want what they consider '_rightfully theirs'_ since the Blacks are tied with their blood – they have been poking their noses in on me ever since the end of the war once they discovered Sirius had left it all to me."

Harry paused to offer a contemptuous glance over his shoulder at Draco Malfoy – who glared smugly back. "He probably only wants me because I'm the one person he can't have…"  
"A Malfoy will have everything and _anything_ he wants in the end, Mr Potter," Lucius Malfoy promised darkly, the threat that slithered through his words making Harry shudder.  
"It is not merely you who will suffer, who will lose everything if you fail to follow through on this…" Snape's voice lingered in the air for a moment as he leant against the side of the desk, surveying Harry pensively, the way that unnerved the dark-haired saviour to no end.

"You used the Black fortune to support those you hold dear," Snape elaborated quietly, his voice a slow breath on the air – but it still made Harry stiffen with a small quiver of fear as he realised the truth in his words. "Weasley Wizard Wheezes has flourished _nationally_ thanks to your continued sponsorship and _partnership_. Mr Arthur Weasley, as I understand it is now in an independent business aided by you – and your friends Mr and Mrs Ronald Weasley, are of course living solely on the money they earn in your shop in Diagon Alley. Now it would pose a problem, I imagine, if your fortune and all of your assets acquired with it were to be wrenched from your hands?"

Harry was frozen. His heart even seemed to slow and fade into non-existence. The Weasleys had been so good to him over the years – even after his adolescent break-up with Ginny. They were his partners in nearly everything he invested in (the only way they would accept his help without dubbing it as charity and refusing it). And Ron and Hermione had only just had little Hugo, they needed the money…

_If I refuse it will ruin them,_ Harry realised, the horror settling into the empty hollow of his chest as well as his now paled face. Somewhere behind him, he swore he _heard_ the younger Malfoy sneering with glee.

"W-Why has this…why was I never made aware of this bef–?"  
"You inherited the full bulk of the fortune when you came of age at seventeen," Snape continued, with a kind of irritating calm as if he were discussing potion ingredients. "But as Draco turned twenty-one a few days ago, a clause in his own inheritance was made apparent to Lucius Malfoy – the same as the clause that is in yours. The heir must marry into such a family as to _insure_ the bloodline's assets. The Black and Lestrange families are the main connections to the Malfoys – and Draco is the Lestrange heir by default since they are in Azkaban for life with no children of their own…"

Harry's head spun with overload of information and he dropped into the chair Snape had pressed him into earlier. Rubbing his temples with his fingers, he allowed his thoughts to collect. "So there are no other choices because Malfoy is the default heir of most other families that the clause refers to…? And we will both lose everything if–"  
"Draco only maintained his claim to his _surmountable_ inheritance by Lucius stepping in – if you are both not united by the time _you_ turn twenty-one next month, you will _both_ lose it all."

_Including the Weasleys, _Harry thought with fear quivering in his gut like ice-water on a winter's day

"But…" His voice was all-but silent with the swelling defeat, "I'm not even a pureblood – you're all obsessed with blood! You–"  
"Muggle blood dilutes with every generation," Lucius Malfoy interjected, his voice stone cold. "And you are only half-blood, and the Wizarding world's saviour on top of that…"  
"So it's more than money… I'm your way back into society – social _good-standing_, am I right?" He realised with a cool smirk, Lucius nodded slightly, but Draco merely intensified his sneer. "I…I need to think this over," he murmured, reaching for the floo powder again.

"Very well, but don't spend too long thinking about it," Snape reminded him as Draco strolled ahead, this time, shoving him aside with no care whatsoever.  
"Call me when he has decided," Draco grunted, halting as he heard Harry murmur a question under his breath.  
"Why are you going through with this?" Harry asked, his words almost lost in a haze, a veil of confusion behind which he had temporarily forgotten the words just spoken to him.  
"Because like _you_, I don't want to lose _all_ I have," The Blond spat sharply, before finally departing.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed, surveying him carefully across the table in the dining room of the modest house she shared with her husband (and Harry's best friend) Ron Weasley. "I simply…I do not see a way out of it…" She scanned the copy of the 'clause' Snape had given him once more, her brow furrowing with concentration. Harry watched her quietly, silently resigned to his fate. It seemed he was doomed to forever remain a sacrifice for the people he loved – whether they intended it or not. _Serves you right,_ he thought with a sad smile. _Did you really think the world would let_ Harry Potter _just live his life in peace?_

Ever since the end of the war nearly four years ago now, he had been plagued by the world he had struggled so hard to save. By the Prophet's prodding and near-constant attack of rumours, by ridiculous members of the general public he had never met that seemed to think they had some kind of claim on his personal life.

_At least Malfoy is honest about using me for his own means,_ Harry thought with a bitter smile, brought back to reality by Hermione's growl of frustration. She shoved the paper roughly away from her, meeting Harry's gaze with sombre eyes. Eyes of defeat, he realised. There really was no way out…

"I can't believe that after everything you have done for the wizarding world you're going to be forced into a marriage to that swine!" Hermoine gasped. "I mean, it's just preposterous, he's a Malfoy for goodness sake, not to mention another man! How are you going to live with someone you spent your childhood avoiding?!"

"I never avoided him," Harry murmured, still in shock. "I just didn't want to waste my breath," he corrected. Hermione sighed.  
"Well whatever the reason, it's just not fair!"  
Harry nodded with her, not really sure what to say about the entire situation. She was right, how was he going to live with someone like Malfoy, let a lone exchange vows?

"How long are you going to have to stay married to him?" Hermione asked curiously, but then her eyes widened with horror. "Not forever…?"

Harry shrugged. "The way Snape told it, it sounded like a 'forever' kind of deal. If we divorced or separated then the clause would come back into effect – we would both lose everything in any case." He fingered his now stone-cold tea cup dejectedly, lowering his eyes to the dark pool of his untouched drink. "We have to do this by the end of this month – by the end of June to ensure that the papers and everything go through properly before I turn twenty-one at the end of July."

"But Harry he'll… The _Malfoys_ – they're purebloods, they are so proper with tradition that it's _dangerous_! You will be thrown into their power with absolutely no way of escape – they could subject you to any–"  
"Any form of torment," Harry finished robotically, "And I am sure that Malfoy will subject me to every imaginable torture he can. As sure as I am that I _have_ to do this…"

"If you have to marry him, you will never have a chance of a real romance, of love," She sighed, Harry's life had been full of so much tragedy and heartbreak that this was just unreal, the fact this was even happening to him, just didn't seem fair. Her best friend, he looked so broken from where Hermione sat, everything in his life was just so…mercilessly cruel. "You realise that when Ron finds out he won't allow it?" Hermione giggled lightly, trying to spark a light in the depths of oblivion. Harry's resigned expression didn't even so much as flicker at her statement and she lost her momentary smile.

"Oh, Harry…"

"I know," Harry said, again that sad smile he swore would never leave him caressing his lips. "That's why you're not going to tell him – tell _anyone _until it's already done." Her eyes widened with horror, and so Harry cut her off before she could argue. "I need to do this, if I don't then you – all of the Weasley family will be ruined. And you know what Lucius Malfoy is like; he'll stop you all from working anywhere else just for spite. I won't let you all suffer when such a simple thing from me can prevent it."  
"But Harry, whatever _this_ is it isn't simple!" Hermione insisted, nearing hysterics. She could not comprehend how Harry could be so calm, so complacent about the whole situation. _Has he even_ cried? _Has he done anything_? She wondered.

"It's simple," Harry clarified for her, glancing briefly to the grandfather clock in the corner. _Malfoy said not to take too long,_ he thought distantly….

"I have nothing to lose, nothing to sacrifice, Hermione, except all of you. I've never been in love so I'd wager I won't miss something I never had." He paused then to force a brave smile as he got to his feet, moving over to the fire. "The worst of it will be putting up with Malfoy for the rest of my life, but at least that might help me control my temper more." A forced laugh punctuated his words, and Hermione blinked in astonished sadness back at him. With pain clutching his heart like spiteful talons, he was resolved not to cry, he could not fall prey to grief and for _that _small mercy he was grateful. He leant in to kiss Hermione's cheek before throwing the floo powder into the grate where he now stood.

He had known for some years that the _Daily Prophet_ had been taken over by none other than Draco Malfoy, in fact he had suspected that that was the cause for not being able to escape their hounding ever since the fall of Voldemort. He had known but he had never been to visit the snob, why should he? He had never had reason to before. Not until now at any rate…

The building was simple, clean and bright with the sun streaming in through the enchanted windows. Yes, very like a smaller, less grand a version of the Ministry. It hadn't taken him long to locate the young Malfoy in his office. A few good stares followed him as he stalked through the open-planned working area for the Daily Prophet editors and writers, but he did not care – the arsehole would probably post some tasteless announcement as soon as he agreed anyway. His body was so tense that it _hurt_, his hands were curled into fists and his eyes were set as he pounded carelessly on Draco Malfoy's door, until the ferret bid him enter.

He flinched with revulsion at the clear victory in those eyes as the Blond told him to close the door and take a seat. Harry did so, but only to give himself something to do so he wouldn't have to look the bastard in the eyes as he spoke to him.

Draco walked over to the large table that dominated most of the room, and took a seat at the top of it. He clenched his hands together and sighed as Harry stood before him. "You can sit down.." He informed as he rustled through some papers and notes, that had been left scattered where he sat and piled them neatly beside him. His gaze caught Harry's for brief moment, then it fell back down to the desk.

"So have you made a decision?" He asked darkly, glaring from beneath his platinum blond strands (that had grown a fair bit in the past few years) and over at Harry.

Harry settled into the only chair (directly in front of Malfoy) and wished that he could have shuffled it back so that they were not so close – such close proximity suggested an intimacy he had _no_ intention of ever sharing with this man. The Blond's knees were within touching distance and he didn't like that. He sat, ramrod straight in the chair, his hands resting casually on the arms as he returned Malfoy's dark look with his own vacant stare.

He did not flinch, barely _blinked_ – even when the Blond flicked his wand towards the glass wall separating his office from the one Harry had walked through, causing the blinds to slam down with a clash. The sound did not make his body shake, but the action of watching privacy fall over the suddenly _far_ too warm, cosy room made his insides churn with uneasiness.

"We both don't want this but its necessary – of course I have to accept, there is no other solution. I will, however, make some reasonable demands to ensure my reasons for complying are not forgotten." Harry watched as his carefully chosen words registered in Malfoy's head, a Blond brow rising in a signal to continue.

"All my financial agreements and settlements on the Weasley family will continue – will be honoured with _exactly_ the same (if not higher) percentage of my fortune supporting them. Even if I die," He could not keep the accusation from his voice then, "Grimmauld Place and Kreacher will not be abused, they will remain in my name alone and when he comes of age, Teddy Lupin will inherit _both_ – with no arguments or strings attached. Lastly, I suppose it's reasonable for you to have…_lovers_, since you won't be activating your conjugal rights with me…"

He cleared his throat shakily at the sound of that – the mere _thought_ of sex had never been a ground of confidence with him. What with his lack of experience in the area. "I suppose it's reasonable but if you take them you'll do so discreetly. I don't need my name dragged through the dirt because my…my _husband_ can't keep quiet… They won't know we aren't having sex, so I don't want to be made to look the fool."

A dark, lustful shadow cast over those silver eyes as the once-slytherin's voice lowered forebodingly. "Don't misunderstand Potter, while I agree that I will probably be off fucking others, we _too_ will be having an _'intimate'_ relationship," He stated bluntly. His eyebrows shifted inwards and Harry's rose when the sudden shock of what exactly Draco had just implied hit him. Draco elaborated before Harry had a chance to reply.

"And as you've probably got no idea of how men have sex - since you're a prissy little virgin, I suppose I'll have to teach you. I'm not marrying someone who I can't fuck when no one else is available," He finished plainly. Harry's eyes were still overcome with shock and he seemed lost for speech, his mouth parted soundlessly in surprise of that bluntness.

"That's _my_ condition, but if you're too much of a wuss to deal with such a minor detail then go ahead and decline."

Harry realised he had pressed himself back into the chair, as far away from Malfoy as he could get, just as he felt a trickle of sweat slide ominously down the back of his neck. He hadn't bargained for…

"I-I can't have sex with you!" Harry ground out. "I – I'm… I'm not interested in men and if I were you can guarantee I wouldn't choose _you_ to experiment with!" He shook his head with disbelief. "I – we _can't_! How would we even decide who…?" His words trailed off and he shook his head again, his fingers biting into the arms of the chair. "Why would you _want_ to! I know I'm the _Chosen One_ and that seems to make me Britain's greatest catch for _whatever_ reason but I'm hardly at the peak of physical attractiveness!"

"The fact is quite simple, when were married you will _belong_ to me, there's something intriguing about having sex with someone that no one else is allowed to touch. And while I agree that you are hardly at the _peak of physical attractiveness,_ I don't really care so long as you satisfy me and do your job." He looked down and rested his forehead gently in his palm, carding his fingers back through his pale, golden locks.

"So do you accept?"

Harry's eyes narrowed with pure, unyielding hatred. "My conditions will be set into our marriage contract as will yours – a marriage contract is an unbreakable vow, Draco Malfoy, if you break it you will die." His gaze hardened to see if Malfoy would re-think this at the realisation of the inescapability of his conditions, but the Blond did not flinch. "If you're going to insist on…on _having _me then…" He winced in revulsion, struggling to maintain his confident composure. "You won't be using my body at your convenience after fucking another. I…If I have to… If you're going to take me I won't be one of _many_."

He felt disgust roil in his stomach like vomit. Draco could have his whores if he wanted but if he took him as well as them… _That ranks me with his cheap sluts and I_ won't _be branded a whore because he can't keep it in his trousers… _

"If you want me, I can't stop you – but that will be it, there'll be no one else." His words held a confidence that sounded foreign on his tongue and felt wrong in his nervous, unsettled stomach. He was going to have to have sex with Draco Malfoy – _whenever_ he wanted! He paled visibly at the thought, hoping he could get out of here before he threw his guts up over the floor.

"You seem to misunderstand my terms and by extension, my seriousness. This is a ridiculous request, to have me to yourself, _Potter_. Don't forget who is in control here," Malfoy snarled, rising from his chair and leaning down to rest his hand on Harry's left cheek. His fingers danced down until they reached his chin and Harry sneered when they pushed his head backwards by it.

"Do you really want the _Weasels_ to lose everything because of your selfishness? We either do it my way, or we don't do it at all."

He knew he was treading on thin lines with this. He couldn't afford for Harry to say no, because even though he hated to admit it, he would lose everything too – more so than Harry himself perhaps. But he wasn't going to just commit to only Harry for the rest of his life (even though that was the exact thing he requested from him) he wasn't going to let him triumph over anything. He wouldn't allow him even a small victory.

Leaning in to Harry's ear, he breathed huskily against the curved shape and bit down on the top of it, digging his teeth into the delicate flesh, he pulled on it and heard Harry yelp against him in pain. Harry ground his teeth furiously, throwing his head to the side in his haste to escape Draco's touch – the Blond was standing over his knees, they were _touching_ and he hated it.

"You stand to lose your entire family's legacy," Harry reminded him stiffly, "You're right – you're in control, or you will be once we go through with this. I am the one being forced into _enslavement_; I am the one who will lose himself, Malfoy. If I have to give my body against my will it won't be to a whore. It's a small price to ask, and if you cannot even meet me on my few measly conditions in return for a lifetime of being your _lapdog_ then this won't be done at all."

Again, his voice was stern, set in stone cool confidence that did not reach his nervously wide eyes and tense limbs. Draco's sneer intensified as he considered his words and Harry struggled not to fly backwards in desperation to escape their close proximity. _Everything begins here,_ he thought, steadying himself. _This is going to decide if I can bear the rest of my life, I can't let him get away without meeting me at least _part _way…_

Malfoys eyes narrowed in irritation. If Harry was to become his 'wife', there was just _no way_ he'd be getting what he wanted. If he gave into Harry's requirements now, that would be it, it was just like saying 'go ahead and whine until you get your way'. Something Draco certainly would _not_ accept.

"Well then, I guess we will both lose everything, won't we?" Draco said sharply, whacking his hands down on the back of Harry's chair (one either side of Harry's head) with a crash, and stood over him with menacing eyes so dangerously close to the _Chosen One's_. He would not be refused.

"Are you seriously going to act like some sort of prissy girl because I'd be fucking around? It's disgusting, shameful! You're a bloody man for heaven's sake! And for what, your name? _That_ won't mean much when you lose everything, will it?"

Harry set his jaw. Malfoy was definitely stupid and arrogant enough to risk it all over something so petty. Perhaps he would have argued if he had felt _anything _for Malfoy, if he actually gave a damn about his name any longer after all the doubt he had suffered during Voldemort's reign – perhaps even if he had the will to care any longer. Malfoy's arms trembled with fury either side of his head and he merely tipped his head down, exhausted by it all.

He was so tired of fighting; he just didn't have the strength anymore.

"No, nothing means much anymore," he admitted quietly, before offering a defeated sigh. "Fuck who you will but you'll use protection with _everyone_ you mess around with 'behind my back' and you'll do it discreetly – that will be written into the contract along with my other conditions. An unbreakable vow, Malfoy." He caught sight of that broad smirk he loathed so much and knew the irritating bastard agreed only because it meant Harry had given in completely in their negotiations, only because he could see Harry crumbling…

"If that's all…then I can accept your proposal."

"You and your _petty_ requests, Potter. If I make that sacrifice you realise it means I'll be fucking you bareback to make up for the loss – if you even know what _bareback fucking _is?" The Blond sneered, chuckling with a smug, dominating smirk as he brushed his hand over his hair with ease. Harry could request what he wanted, but there was no way Draco would let him off easily.

Harry blinked for a moment at the request, wishing nothing more than for it to be over now – so he could go to sleep and enjoy the solitude of his own bed for as long as he could…

He indeed, had no idea what _bareback _was, but didn't think it'd make much difference in any case. Malfoy would be the dominant partner, would _rule_ his body and soul and so would take whatever he wanted _wherever_ he wanted. It made little difference what the sordid torment was dubbed since Harry would have to suffer it all the same – _forever._

Slowly, he rose to his feet, shaking his suddenly weary head. "Your Father made it clear that the event itself would be small – mostly for signing the 'vows' but that I would have to struggle through a _Malfoy celebration_ tradition of some sorts afterwards. I was given to understand that it's similar to a _reception _only…on a bigger scale?" He watched as Malfoy offered only a short nod in answer. Harry's tongue skipped across his lip, across the cracks there – the beginnings of the shattering of his soul.

"Well if that's settled – just let me know when I'll be signing myself over to you," he stated, his eyes and voice hollow. "Don't worry about leering over my ignorance of gay sex, we have the rest of our lives for you to tell me how inadequate and stupid I am." His voice was heavy with bitterness and exhaustion and he could not find the will to hide it even. Draco Malfoy was loving it.

The smile on the Blond's face widened. Even though he wasn't overjoyed with Harry at their situation, teasing him and having him under his control for the rest of his days did appeal, something chronic to his filthily imagination.

"You will be signing the contact with me on Monday, which means you have four days," Malfoy stated coldly. Harry's eyes widened at the reality of his words, four days wasn't a very long time to enjoy his last lot of freedom before making such a 'vow' but he didn't have much choice.

Harry could only nod, not trusting his words at that moment. Rising to his feet slowly, Harry took a few steps away from the desk in order to put more space between him and Malfoy. He brought his eyes up to the Blond's smug face carefully and he struggled with how to word the only thing he thought he could fight for – that Malfoy might sway on – _maybe…_

But Malfoy was moving towards him persistently, (probably realising Harry wanted personal space and wanting to violate all his wishes if he could) and Harry swallowed slightly. "There was…one more thing." He began as steadily as before, not willing to wilt like a flower at the mere _prospect_ of his damned future. Malfoy planned on making his life hell, that was fine, because Harry wouldn't make himself easy to break.

"Your father suggested that at the contract signing I would be handing over my name – _for yours_." He nearly _spat_ the last part, as if that was the worst part of this entire situation – and in a way, he supposed it was. He would already be Malfoy's property – his chattel, giving up everything he had to the overbearing bastard his school-rival had become. His family name was important to him, it wasn't flattering or even that elegant but he was the last one – ever, and though he wouldn't be having any children to exactly _continue the line_, he'd rather hoped it would die with him rather than be forced to surrender it to someone like Draco Malfoy…

"Yes, Father did mention that to me, and at first I was rather disgusted that the likes of you would be dirtying the Malfoy name. It certainly did seem unappealing from a pureblood point of view however…" Draco stepped closer to Harry then, and the air between them intensified as his lips almost came into contact with Harry's ear once again when he continued in a whisper. "…calling you by my own name when I'm fucking you is rather endearing." He knew Harry felt him smiling vilely against his earlobe and he laughed, drawing back to see Harry's outraged expression.

"I – That's–" Harry stammered uselessly in shock. No one _ever_ said such debauched things to him – maybe innocence had made him a prude, but he felt uncomfortable and repulsed by Malfoy's lips breathing hotly in the shell of his ear and even more so at the way he felt his cheeks grow hot. He growled low under his breath, shoving Malfoy back roughly from him. "Is there nothing – nothing I can… Can't you just add '_Malfoy_' onto the end of my name?" He protested, but the wicked smile at Draco's lips told him his answer before the Blond even _spoke._

"No," He stated boldly, his silver eyes unmoved. Harry seemed to wither before him when he leant back a few spaces, hands hanging inside both pockets of his trousers. "And don't tell me the one who defeated the Dark Lord is going to get pathetically sentimental over such a minor factor, maybe you should rethink your priorities, Potter." He paused and looked over at the window the blinds had been drawn over, before continuing. "All that power wasting inside your sanctimonious skin… Don't you think you're a waste of a human being sometimes?"

"Don't you think you're a pathetic _prick_ sometimes?" Harry retaliated with his jaw still set, "Prancing around doing _exactly _what Daddy wants you to do? Tell me have you so much as chosen a pair of _undies_ without his consent?" He watched Draco flinch and knew he had hit a nerve – but Draco had as well…

This time, he leant in, closing the precious space between him and his…_fiancée_ (he winced at the word). "You think you're going to conquer me with this, _Draco Malfoy_, but if Voldemort couldn't manage it what makes you think a poncy little fool who was too afraid to say his _name_ will be able to?" His voice was a low, dangerous hiss, betraying every slither of dislike he held for this arrogant little boy.

Draco flew at Harry, his forearm shoving the man backwards into the wall, causing the mirror hanging there to wobble on it's hangings when Harry's head crashed full pelt into it. "I do think for myself you pathetic cunt." His eyes tightened with fury and he forced his teeth back over that ear where he had bitten Harry before, biting down on it with all the might in his gums, Harry tried to pull away, but failed. The pain in his ear swelled furiously and he shuddered at the feel of saliva being spat into it.

"Don't you _dare_ speak to me with that tone, you prissy virgin! If your parents were still alive they would probably vomit at they way you turned out. You're a disgrace!"

Harry wretched at the feel of Draco's spit in his ear and threw his elbow up hard into Draco's chest, making the Blond wince and stumble back in surprise. Harry leapt to his feet, giving Malfoy another shove towards the desk. The Blond's body collided hard with the edge, the papers and the desk lamp flying off carelessly. "_Virgin_ is hardly an insult you idiot – I was a fool for thinking you'd matured beyond Hogwarts. And yes, they'd vomit – they'd _retch_ at the thought of sharing a bloodline with _you_!" He was dangerously close again but with his temper flaring like a spitting fire he paid his flicker of caution no heed.

"I may be pathetic but I don't lie, I don't cheat and I don't whore myself around like _you_, you pretentious, arrogant little _faggot_!" He was quite naïve in certain ways of the world, homosexuality being one of the cloudier areas, and though he didn't hold any malice towards it, he knew that it would make Malfoy's blood boil. But he was too close.

Draco's hands seized his forearm roughly, throwing him face-first into the table top and yanking it behind his back spitefully until Harry was forced to bend over the desk, his face pressed into its surface to avoid the breaking of his arm. If he moved, it'd break. He winced in pain but made no noise – he had had worse. "Get _off_ me!" He screamed, his stomach lurching as he felt Malfoy fall flush over his back. Too close!

Suddenly, the door to the office flew open and Harry closed his eyes, cheeks burning with humiliating at the sight of the young girl standing in the doorway – stunned. "I…I'm sorry – sorry for interrupting, Mr Malfoy," the secretary stammered, flushed dark at the sight before her, but Draco made no attempt to move.  
"Get this idiot off of me!" Harry screamed, not daring to struggle. The girl looked between them, before focusing solely on Malfoy for instruction.

"Just a quarrel with my fiancée," Malfoy sneered, without moving and Harry's hands clenched into fists as he growled furiously. The Blond was using this as an opportunity for humiliating him and he loathed it.  
"Get him off me or get someone who will!" Harry demanded of the stunned girl, and Draco gave his arm a painful twist.

"Come back later, Ellithia, I'm a little caught up at the moment. But don't worry, I haven't forgotten our 'session'," Draco smirked, and from beyond that expression, Harry had a good idea what exactly a 'session' with Draco Malfoy would entail, and he didn't like it.

The girl quickly closed the door and strolled away. Malfoy just chuckled quietly then, pressuring Harry's arm harder so it sent jolts of pain up through his shoulder and neck. The position Harry was in made it hard to even struggle against him and his voice was husky and sarcastic as it whispered over the back of Harry's goose-pimpled neck. "I'll grind the meaning of the word '_faggot_' into every last limb of your body you pathetic prick, so thoroughly that you will regret the way you spoke to me, a Malfoy. Your tight little backside doesn't stand a chance…"

"Maybe I should use my last four days to fuck it raw on some other sluts like you then," Harry sneered, throwing his head back in an attempt to smack Draco in the face, only succeeding in having his face slammed forcefully to the desk, pinned there so that those vile lips could hover near his ear again in mock seduction. "I'm never going to be able to get it up sharing your bed so I may as well enjoy an erection while I can…"

His words were an empty threat, but Draco thought of him as property and again, it would infuriate him. Perhaps his survival instinct was screaming in his ears to shut up, but his temper was alight like fiendfyre in his chest. "Go fuck your whores while you're still pretty, Draco, because one day they'll realise how ugly you are inside and you'll have nothing. And you can fuck _me_ until I bleed but I'll never want you, and I'll never _give_ myself to you – _ever_. You're not deserving of even _my_ scrawny body."

The Blond crushed Harry's head into the table harder, his fingers pulsing with burning fury and adrenaline when he yanked a fistful of dark hair back and slammed the boy's face a few times against the marble surface. It sounded like Harry's skull had cracked each time he bashed it into the table. Finally, he reached round and furiously grasped Harry's 'private' area with a smirk.

"What was that you were saying? Because you seem pretty fucking hard to me right now."

"Who says I didn't get a stiffy from your lovely secretary?" Harry ground out, stone-still under the Blond's hands. "Get your rank, wandering hands off me you slut and go fuck someone who _wants_ you!"

Draco growled with frustration and pulled back, Harry scrambling upright when Draco finished straightening himself up. Walking to the far end of the room, Draco glanced back at Harry briefly before he spoke. "I'll see you in four days."

Harry frowned at him, stumbling back slightly in bewilderment of his sudden release. He stared at the Blond's back for a moment, before heading to the door. Pulling it open, he remained on the threshold for a moment, his mind breezing through what had just happened. "You can beat me," he began steadily, quietly so that his voice reached Draco with a low hum, "You can torture me but you will never hurt me, not the way you want to. I don't care about you anywhere near enough for you to do that." _I don't care enough about anything to be hurt by it anymore,_ he thought exhaustedly. He waited for a moment, though he was not really sure what for and then as an infuriating realisation flashed across his mind he shut the door behind him, strolling quickly through the building for the nearest exit, in an attempt to brush that thought from his mind.

_I haven't been that angry at someone since Voldemort died,_ Harry winced at that thought, not willing to ponder it. No one had had the power to infuriate the empty shell he had become for years…

At that departure, Draco felt his blood boil beneath his skin, his hand uncontrollably rushing to the papers on the table and throwing them into the air with frustration. "FUCK!" He yelled from the top of his retching lungs, adrenaline making his fingers shake and his body quiver in anger as the papers scattered across the floor. He had never felt so humiliated.

Storming over to the cabinet that stood tall in the corner, he rushed open door, grabbing the lid on a bottle of whisky and twisting it until it opened. A low, rumbling growl of frustration tumbled over his lips as he poured a generous amount into the glass and with a single sip he downed the contents of the glass. His throat burned immensely as the liquid trickled down, but his nerves from the anger subsided and he took his seat back at the table.

_~To Be Continued..._


	2. 2- Empty Vows

**Please note this is the censored version (no sex is shown and will be cut out). To read the sex scenes please visit the links on my profile page.**

* * *

[Two]

**Empty Vows**

Harry '_Potter's' _last days had passed by uneventful. Hermione had kept her promise to keep his sacrifice a secret until tomorrow – when it would be too late. That of course, meant that they probably wouldn't be able to come to the nauseating _reception _afterwards to support him, but it was necessary to keep them from interfering in such a way that would only get them hurt. He hadn't seen, nor heard from his repugnant _husband-to-be_ either, (thankfully) but he had received a few painfully forced polite notes from Lucius Malfoy – regarding details he _had _to be aware of, location of the 'wedding' (though he much preferred to call it the 'signing') and such things…

He had enjoyed the company of the Weasleys and in particular Ron, Hermione and Hugo a lot of the time, making the most of his few precious friends before…who knew _what _happened! It was late morning of his _last day_, however, when the final straw came. His robes arrived (courtesy of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy) for the dreaded day itself and though they were simple enough, (not all that different from his dress robes at the Yule Ball all those years ago) it was still enough to make bile rise like acid in his throat. _Physical proof that Draco Malfoy can make someone ill,_ Harry thought bitterly, visibly blanching when he saw the small ring-box sitting atop his neatly folded robes. He did not want nor need to open it; he knew what it was…

The vile wedding band he was expected to give to his _vile_…'fiancée' tomorrow was what initially drove him from his home in an attempt to lose his mind until he had to face his fate. Alcohol wasn't one of his tastes but tonight it was a blessing. He chose a quiet, muggle club in London, a perch at the bar away from the relaxed crowds and ordered the strongest beverage the bartender could offer him. A girl across the bar smiled coquettishly at him and he politely pretended not to see her, but in turning his head he caught a flash of white-blond, and he had to double-take to make sure he saw it right.

Malfoy was sitting in one of the more private booths, not having noticed him yet (not that that mattered any) and not alone.

"There's a man, over there, he is staring at you," the skimpily-dressed woman sitting opposite Draco informed him, causing Draco's attention to snap from his all too cosy situation, to the dark-haired man who was standing awkwardly at the bar.

"What a coincidence," He murmured, alcohol thick and potent on his breath as he fidgeted around the table and sat closer to the women with practiced ease. His arm slipped over her shoulder and he sent a spine-chilling glare towards Harry, who seemed to be pretending not to notice, even when the Blond leant in further, engrossed in the filth he was whispering into the woman's ear…

Maybe it was the alcohol combined with disbelief, but Harry could only chuckle despondently, swirling what remained of his drink in the slushy mess of ice at the bottom before downing it. "I give you my future husband," he murmured to himself sarcastically, as the brunette across the bar struggled to catch his eye again. This time, however, he let her. Hermione and Ron had often remarked on his inability to flirt, but the alcohol made everything seem a little easier and he smiled back, the seeming reciprocation of her interest beckoning her over to him. If he had cared enough to glance back over to Malfoy, he would have seen the blond stiffen a little with irritation at being ignored.

Draco shuffled in his chair, distracted even as he made the nameless woman beside him focus on only him. He leant in and placed a kiss on her forehead – almost romantically, to Harry's distaste. "I'm just going to the toilet," He told her, somehow making even _that_ sound seductive, and stood from his table, pinpointing the location of the loo door behind where Harry was standing and strolled over, not so much as giving Harry a single look when he shoved passed.

Harry downed the shot the bartender had set in front of him and got to his feet. He shuddered at the intensity of the drink but did not stumble as he followed the blond into the toilets. The bright, unbearably harsh lighting made him wince as he left the softness of the club for the whitewash bathroom. Harry looked around; Malfoy was nowhere to be seen so was probably in one of the cubicles. He gave a small shrug and moved over to the (thankfully clean) urinals.

The spiteful lights were making him dizzy. The fluorescents combined with alcohol did not have a good effect on him evidently and he leant his forehead against the cool, wall-length mirror that lined the urinals. Allowing his eyes to close he breathed slowly, waiting for the dizziness to disappear.

He remained there even when he'd finished peeing, waiting for the light-headedness to subside, not bothering to put himself away – he would soon wish he had. A revoltingly warm hand wrapped around his limp member and his eyes shot open, staring into the mirror he was still leaning against to see a smug Draco Malfoy glaring back at him. "Get the _fuck _off me you sick freak!" Harry snarled.

Draco smashed Harry's head forwards into the mirror and tossed his penis a few times, a few remainders of urine sprinkled uncontrollably out of the urinal and over the floor. Malfoy glared teasingly at a repulsed Harry Potter and murmured hotly against his neck as he squeezed Harry's (surprisingly hardening) cock. "You're the sick one, Potter, getting hard over a few jerks – _pathetic_…"

"Never drank before," Harry explained through gritted teeth, "I'd have to be plastered to get a reaction over you!" But Malfoy's hand kept moving over him and he had to bite hard into his lip to silence himself. "Didn't think you were getting such bad a reaction off your whores that you needed to resort to jumping drunk guys while they're taking a piss!" His hand went to Malfoy's wrist, tugging it away, but Draco's grip was tight around a very vulnerable part of his body and it wouldn't budge easily.

The bathroom door flew open then, (giving Harry an awful sense of repetition) as a poor unsuspecting muggle stared at them in drunken shock. The hand around his stiffening prick moved faster, his lips bruising under the force of his teeth that kept his inebriated moans silent. Harry watched in the mirror as Malfoy shot the drunken muggle a glare that promised death.

"Why settle for one whore when I can have two?" Draco snarled with a glistening smirk. He really was unbelievable. Caressing that tender organ still with renewed vigour, he grasped at it so roughly that even if Harry wanted to get pleasure from it (which he didn't) he wouldn't have much chance. The _Chosen One's_ face twisted with a grimace and he hissed under his breath before he could stop himself, knowing all too well that Draco _knew _it was hurting him and only grasped him harder when sound escaped him.

The man at the door quickly rushed into one of the cubicles, avoiding their eyes as he slammed the door shut behind him. With a morbidly pleased smile, Draco leant back over Harry's neck, whispering hotly into his nape and relishing in his _fiancé's_ shiver. "Don't worry, Potter, after tomorrow, you will officially be mine and you won't be able to deny me anymore…"

"I can't refuse you my body but I'll _never_ be yours!" Harry spat, his nails digging hard into Malfoy's wrist, until the blond hissed in pain and released him. Harry shrugged his body off and backed away towards the door hastily, tucking himself away as the blond surveyed him with a predatory hunger in his eyes. He stared, sickened at Malfoy for few more lingering moments, before running his hands hastily under the tap and bolting from the toilet.

_That's what he thinks, _Malfoy thought smugly when he unzipped his pants and finally did what he went in there for. Harry _would _be his…

The soft glow of the club was certainly gentler to his eyes and Harry inhaled shakily, scanning the room as he got his breath back. Two, dark eyes caught his from across the room – the same eyes that had been fluttering seductively at Draco Malfoy not a few minutes ago. Harry smirked broadly, alcohol (and a peculiar need for revenge) drowning his inhibitions as he moved over to slide into the booth next to her.

"Saw you staring over at me earlier, sweetie," the girl murmured fluidly, wetting her lips as she looked him up and down. Something in Harry's stomach felt decidedly uncomfortable being this close to _anyone _that wanted him 'that' way, but that last shot was still buzzing hotly in his ears and his cock was still pulsing against the barrier of his trousers with a desire that had _nothing _to do with Draco Malfoy. The anger flooding his veins at the vile blond only intensified his arousal…

"Of course," Harry replied, as softly as he could, "you're very pretty."

"Hmm, if you aren't the sweetest thing," she purred as she leant in, Harry's gut twisting a little – not the way he had expected it to. "So you don't bat for that blond boy's team?" She asked, evidently meaning Malfoy. Harry's smile widened.

"So far from it–"

"Oh good," she cut him off, before she seized his face and leapt at his mouth. Harry went still under her, but she didn't seem to notice or care.

Running his hands under the water and cleaning them slowly with the soap, until they felt smooth once more, Draco gave a small, triumphant smile before pacing over to the hand-dryer and watching thoughtfully as the steam blew away the moisture. He slicked his fingers back through his locks and straightened his expensive suit before opening the bathroom door. His calm, neat ritual was shattered, however, his eyes flying wide and burning with fury, with irritation when he saw them – that whore and Harry – kissing?!

Flying across the club, he bolted to their side and seized the woman's arm tightly, nails digging into her skin as he tore her away from him, startling Harry (and everyone else watching) by dragging her outside by her hair. People from inside the club gathered at the window (including Harry) and watched as the once-slytherin exploded.

"You bloody slut! Our sessions are over," He snarled, watching her fall to her knees as she pleaded with him.

"But – no! I need the money! I…you don't understand…I–" Her words cut short as Malfoy shoved her aside and glared over at the people at the window with cold, menacing eyes his father would be proud of. None of them dared to even interfere. He grunted, a superior glare spreading across his features as he strode away, leaving the woman to tremble on the floor.

Harry watched though the window as the blond bolted before he moved outside to help the woman to her feet, pulling away from her once she was steady. "As of tomorrow, that man is my husband," Harry explained stoically. "I can't see why all you girls throw yourselves at him, but I advise you to escape where I can't – he's bad news." With that he walked away slowly into the alley that would lead him back into mid-london, perhaps he could have a few more drinks to tide him over until it was a suitable time to collapse into a coma on his bed.

"Thanks for coming with me," Harry murmured as he sat in the all-but deserted hall of the building where he would sign himself over to Malfoy. Hermione smiled beside him uneasily, patting his shoulder carefully.

"It's alright," she assured him, "You wouldn't let me tell the Weasleys but I could hardly let you face this alone could I? I didn't let you face _You-Know-Who _alone!"

"Malfoy is worse," Harry smirked, never raising his head, never pulling his gaze from where it lay on his shoes.

The dress robes were comfortable and warm but he almost wished the collar was itchy or the tie too tight, _anything_ so that he could remain angry, irritated and on-edge. He didn't _want_ to be complacent about it all, but it was so tiring…_everything_ had been to tiring to get infuriated or passionate about for a long time.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come to the reception afterwards?" Hermione asked carefully. "The Malfoys are a highly esteemed, pureblood family – they will be inviting half the wizarding world, won't you be a tad…_lonely_?"

Harry looked up at her blankly at last.

"No…listen I bet Malfoy has a tasteless, vulgar announcement that we were married all lined up so go and tell the Weasleys as soon as this…_signing_ is over. I want them to know before anyone else."

"Alright, Harry, whatever you wish," Hermione offered, knowing she could not enter that building with him in any case given whom and _what_ he was marrying. "Ron will go mad when he finds out, you realise?" She reminded him, but Harry already seemed to know that and remained unfazed – by anything. "Oh, Harry," She cried again, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" She so wanted to do something – anything to change things for him. All she had ever witnessed was his sadness and suffering, and she hated it. But there wasn't anything she could do.

"There you are, Mr Potter," came the cool, ominous voice of Lucius Malfoy as he appeared in the dreaded doorway, his cold eyes running over Hermione scathingly. "Mrs Weasley," he murmured stiffly, before glancing back to Harry. "I do hope you weren't under the delusion that this…_filth_ would be accompanying you?"

Harry stood slowly, still not able to get angry, not even in Hermione's defence which bothered him more than he'd care to admit. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten Hermione to banish his hang-over, it might've made him more cranky. "I haven't invited anyone to the reception, if you want me to behave myself, make you look good and not humiliate you in front of the entire wizarding community then she will come in with me now – or do you imagine my presence will help your family any if I make it look like I was forced into this?" It was as if he could see Lucius Malfoy's mind ticking, and he stared blankly at the man until he gave them both a sneer, turning into the white door just in front of them.

Harry straightened up a little, offering Hermione a swift glance before leading her into the room after Lucius. The room was just an office, or at least it seemed that way. It was eggshell white with plush carpeting and a wizened old man stood at the head of the room with a desk between him and the few gathered in the room. It had been made clear by Lucius that a proper 'wedding' would have made a mockery of their family and Harry was all too pleased to see that the only thing he would probably have to worry about was the dreaded, overdone reception.

Draco stood on one side of the desk, his mother preening over his appearance as always, with Lucius and (for some reason) Snape right beside her. Harry would have laughed if he had possessed the will. Aside from the dark, smart robes Draco was dressed in, he looked _exactly _as he had done the numerous times his parents had seen him off at the Hogwarts express. His blond locks were even slicked back in the same way, as opposed to the way it had hung in his eyes last night…

Harry shuddered, taking his place opposite Malfoy with an inward cringe. The only warmth was Hermione's silent presence behind him.

"Mr Harry James Potter and Mr Draco Abraxas Malfoy?" Asked the old wizard across the desk, adorned with garish, purple robes as he studied the papers in front of him. Harry nodded, feeling oddly detached from the situation, but Malfoy must have nodded also because the man offered a professional, mild smile. "Excellent, if you would like to read through your vows."

Harry frowned. 'Vows' evidently meant the 'contract' – it made sense, he supposed. At Hermione and Ron's wedding, they had been in love; their unbreakable vow of marriage had been spoken with careful thought and affection. He and Malfoy were not promising anything to each other, they were striking a deal with conditions that would be met under the pressure of the unbreakable bond of marriage…

He was definitely too detached from this whole situation, but he supposed it would do him no good to scream with outrage. _And I won't give Malfoy the satisfaction of watching me lose it, _he thought as he scanned the document, seeing all of his conditions that he had demanded in place. Draco hadn't demanded much, there was that condition for his body to be available to him whenever he wished, and for it to remain _exclusively_ his – no one else's. He demanded control over all money and assets that were not already promised elsewhere in the contract. That was fine with him, he had very few possessions left that were precious and most of them were useless to Malfoy, with the exception of perhaps his invisibility cloak…

Suddenly, Malfoy's jeering voice broke his concentration.

"Well, are the final arrangements to your liking, Potter?" He sneered, just to further torment the man beside him who was being forced into a marriage with him. Though despite what Potter felt about it, Draco didn't even see it as a marriage, just another opportunity for acquiring a priceless possession – and that possession was Harry Potter. He was still going to fuck around and do as he pleased, because despite Potter's petty requests, he hadn't got his way, hadn't even been met half way.

The unfairness of it all was not lost on him, no in fact it pleased him, particularly as Draco would still be screwing who he wanted when he wanted, while Harry stayed at home and acted like the perfect little housewife. He smiled devilishly at the thought, that this was the future between them. Harry Potter would live the rest of his days in Draco's own personal hell, and Draco loved knowing that.

He snatched the documents from Harry and seized the quill from the ink-well on the desk, leaning down to the before them, where the spokes-wizard stood, and signed his name with a hurried flourish, (as part of the ceremony) with no romance and not so much as a look up at his _husband_, even when he slid it across the glossy tabletop to Harry.

It was the first step. It suddenly hit Harry, too hard at the sight of Draco's name on that paper below him.

Harry's hand felt like jelly when he reached for the pen, and he continued to stare at the line where he was to sign, right beside Malfoy. He also knew that it wasn't _Harry James Potter, _he would be writing. They had argued, but as he had expected, he'd lost the battle and now he was just resigned. "You may as well have taken my other names too because there's nothing of me left," Harry murmured to Malfoy.

"Don't tempt me," Malfoy sneered unsympathetically, his cold eyes watching as Harry signed his name, _Harry James Malfoy._

It made Harry wanted to spit on the vile contract when he straightened up and backed away to let Lucius Malfoy and Hermione sign as witnesses. He had just signed away his freedom. He winced at the returning dizziness and shook his head, swaying slightly until Hermione's hand steadied him. Frighteningly close, he heard Draco chucking hollowly at him.

"You're mine…Harry," He breathed quietly, so only Harry could hear. The ceremony didn't really express romanticism or affection, not like a wedding, but Malfoy couldn't help but torment his new _spouse_. "Don't I get to kiss the bride?" He heard Harry growling low in his throat at that, inciting a sadistic chuckle from the blond, one that only silenced when the spokes-wizard launched his wand arm into the air, speaking formally still. "Harry James Malfoy and Draco Abraxas Malfoy, will now live together in Draco's private section of the Malfoy Manor that has been provided," He stated and Harry realised that this session was going to drag on…and on…

"Exchange the rings please," the elderly wizard coaxed. Harry nearly choked on his own tongue. That gesture he had forgotten about until then, and it seemed more intimate than anything else he would be forced to adhere to that night. He didn't like it. _Any_ of it. His still shaky hand delved into his pocket, retrieving the plain velvet box. He was astonished upon opening it, expecting something gaudy and tasteless and instead seeing a stunning platinum band. The flawless surface was engrained with two serpents curved up from the bale and up to meet in the centre where a dark green jewel was inlaid.

Plucking it from the box, Harry winced at the tightness of his throat – he couldn't breathe. He held the ring out to Malfoy impatiently, wishing for this all to be over. He was _not_ going to put the bloody thing on Malfoy's prissy finger _that_ was for sure.

"Well? Slip it on already, _Scarhead_," Malfoy clucked impatiently, and reluctantly, Harry quickly slipped the object around his finger. Draco, in turn, lifted Harry's hand up when the old wizard spoke the words, "You may now place the ring on your husband." He slipped the identical object onto Harry's wedding finger, but it seemed almost sexual with the suggestive twists he gave it, his lustful eyes flicking to Harry's face briefly, before pushing it to the crest of his knuckle.

Harry's hand dropped immediately from Draco's (clearly disturbed), but he found himself choking on the very air he breathed when the elderly wizard stated simply, "You may now kiss your partner."

Both Lucius and Snape looked at one and other, also seemingly disgusted at the idea, while Draco seemed to be the only one smiling, almost triumphantly!

Harry grimaced with revulsion, his hands curling into fists as Malfoy stepped closer to him. He deliberated on sending Hermione from the room before she could see the vile act but as he turned his head and parted his lips for speech, a spiteful hand caught his face, yanking him roughly back for a tongue to invade his mouth.

Draco forced his tongue deep inside that unskilled mouth (well aware that everyone was watching) and swept it over Harry's dormant muscle. Why should he just settle for a peck on the lips when this would humiliate his _bride_ so much more? Drawing back with a loud _smacking_ noise, he chuckled quietly, wiping his mouth as it tipped up in a grin. "Well at least I know I married a rubbish kisser, I suppose," He bit out scathingly, watching Harry's eyes almost burn him alive when he laughed. Everyone was watching, it was so…humiliating, so…_perfect. _

"Your whore didn't seem to think so when she chose me over you last night," Harry sneered, drawing back and wiping his mouth in revulsion.

"Draco!" Narcissa chimed, "Honestly, such indiscretions look bad on the family." She looked from Harry to Draco for a moment, showing no particular distaste for Harry but not a great deal of warmth either, not even when she smiled slightly. "Faithfulness is something a beneficial marriage thrives on, you father and I have never had such incidents."

So she didn't approve in Draco's cavalier sex life, Harry realised, but he suspected simply because she and Lucius Malfoy loved and respected one-another, she expected that fully from them. _She's in for a shock,_ Harry thought bitterly, as Draco murmured a casual 'one last adventure' to placate his doting mother, though Harry saw the lie in those eyes when he said it.

The vile Slytherin straightened himself up at his mother's words, even if he didn't completely listen to them. He would remain compliant to her wishes, but only to make her happy whilst he shared the same air with her. When she wasn't there, he could just act to please himself, which he would. But he didn't really want to disappoint her, and would avoid it at all costs.

"Here is your marriage certificate," the elderly wizard chimed in as he signed it with finality, passing it to Draco who handed it to his father. It was then that Harry turned to Hermione.

"Thank you," he repeated quietly, "Go now and tell the Weasleys, I'll…I'll contact you tomorrow, I hope…"

"If you haven't contacted me in a few days," Hermione began, casting a glance back at Draco even as Harry ushered her out the door.

"Yes," Harry said, not allowing her to finish. "Listen… Ron is going to explode but…tell him why? Please?" He caught only a small nod and the briefest of hugs before a rough grip on his arm yanked him spitefully away from Hermione and back into the room, where Narcissa and Lucius were waiting with a pot of floo powder. _Off to the vile reception then,_ he thought, paling in revulsion at the prospect of being forced to be at Malfoy's arm for the rest of the afternoon, like some sort of trophy.

Draco moved his eyes away from Harry when they entered the main foyer of Malfoy manor, filled with people, their guests, standing around with drinks and the floor scattered in confetti (like some kind of _real_ wedding). Together the _newlyweds_ (along with Narcissa and Lucius) moved through the crowds, and everyone seemed curious of Harry, even though most of them happened to be looking on him with distaste.

_Most of them did support Voldemort,_ Harry thought, without really caring, _should I be surprised? _At that moment, a grand lady, dressed in green and her partner hurried over to the _happy couple_ to wish them well. Harry nodded politely and let Draco do the talking, loathing all of these two-faced dignitaries congratulating them – it was all a big lie! And Draco, he just seemed amused!

Harry wrung his hands distractedly as he remained silently at Malfoy's side, although he supposed he couldn't call him Malfoy anymore than _Draco _could call him 'Potter'. The wedding band felt weird, _wrong_ around his finger and he fiddled with it uncomfortably as he nodded politely to the people he was being introduced to – as Harry _Malfoy_. He definitely didn't like that.

"You seem distracted," the cool, serpentine voice of Narcissa Malfoy said from behind him and he turned slightly (fully aware that Draco was listening for his reply) to face her.

"Tired," he admitted and there was no whisper of a lie there. She raised a brow and diverted her gaze to Draco.

"He is far too skinny," she admonished, "He will need filling out. And he does not seem to thrive well under constant attention, Draco, take him out to the garden for some air once you have greeted our guests." With that, she leant in to peck her son on the cheek and glide away to her husband's side.

Harry watched her go with confusion. He had never really spoken to her since she had helped him in the final battle with Voldemort, and where he had a pretty solid judgment on Lucius and Draco, his idea of her was still very vague. But before he could ponder her words any longer, he felt Draco's gaze weighing heavy on him, and flicked his eyes to him reluctantly. "What?" Harry asked in irritation when the blond did not speak. Lucius Malfoy's sudden arrival at their side, however, saved him the trouble of answering.

"Come, this way," Lucius reminded them, shuffling through the crowd until they reached they long dinning table where they would be expected to eat an extravagant three course meal in celebration. "This is one of the final parts of the ceremony," Lucius whispered beneath his breath in reminder, as they paced through those gathered nearest them and towards the head of the table. "These guests need to witness your marriage as a loving and mutual bond, if they found out this was all for monetary security, we would surely be put out of any good social standing – appearances are _everything_, so give them a show."

Harry nodded stiffly at Lucius's instructions and Draco's spiteful grip on his arm drew him towards the top of the table. This time, however, the movement was less rushed, more fluid and as Harry fell into stride beside Draco, seeing the blond's sneer missing from his face, he realised – they were putting on the show _now_. The guests were still filing in behind them but some were already settled and watching the 'newlyweds' with awe.

"I've had enough with being a freak show," Harry murmured to himself as he forced a small smile onto his lips, cheeks flushing with _genuine _embarrassment at being scrutinised and judged by hundreds of people all at once. He really didn't like crowds. Sliding his arm under Draco's half-heartedly for display purposes, Harry reached up and tugged at his fringe anxiously, trying to get it to cover his scar.

Draco clucked his tongue impatiently at him as they reached the top of the table, the blond pausing to pull a chair out, but did not sit in it. Harry stared at him a moment or two, before realising his mistake and sat quickly in the chair Draco had pulled out for him. His flush darkened. He hated being paraded around like this, but Draco seemed to _relish_ the attention.

"Thank you," Harry said to him quietly, as the blond took his own seat beside him (at the right-hand side of the head of the table, where Lucius sat – Narcissa directly opposite Draco, on Lucius's left).

"Oh, you are a sweet thing," some woman a few seats down chirped and Harry pulled a little more at his hair – which until then had been lying at least a _little_ flat. He was just so uncomfortable and he jumped when suddenly, Draco seized his wrist, pulling it away from his fringe with another tut.

Draco fed his hand under the table as everyone was seated, the glorious food suddenly appearing before them in a whirl of swift magic. Lucius stood up to make a toast, clanging his spoon onto the wine glass for attention; everyone looked at him in reaction, the chatter at the table silencing.

But that wandering hand stroked over Harry's leg and up along it smoothly, the ring catching the fabric a tad when finally it reached Harry's _private_ area.

Harry flushed suddenly in a mixture of embarrassment and irritation when Draco looked at him directly and whispered, "What's the matter, _Darling_?"

"Nothing _Sweetheart_," Harry spat with false affection, his breath hitching as he struggled to keep his composure, especially as Lucius's speech was ending and people's eyes were flicking back to him and Malfoy frequently. His skin shuddered with revulsion at the touch but his lower body was tense and pressing eagerly against his trousers for more. He grit his teeth, his hand on the table clenching into a fist. He jumped when the woman beside him patted it caringly.

"Are you ok, dear?" she asked.

Harry nodded, gasping slightly as he smiled. "I am fine, thanks," he replied, but a harder squeeze over his prick was evidently Malfoy's way of saying he wasn't _acting_ well enough. "I'm just embarrassed to have all this fuss made for me," he elaborated with a small laugh, gesturing to the elaborate dining hall of Malfoy Manor that they now feasted in. The floor beneath his feet was dark marble, the walls dark green and elaborately dressed with heirlooms and shining tapestries, extending above to the overpowering, glistening ceiling far, _far_ above. Sprinkles of confetti and tasteful banners broke up what he could tell was the usual décor.

The middle-aged woman smiled back at him. "You're such an endearing young boy; the prophet doesn't do you justice, particularly as your new husband is the owner."

"He just doesn't like to brag," Harry lied swiftly, without prompting Malfoy to punish his cock for his bad acting. The slow caresses over his hardness were firmer now, and he struggled to stay silent at the intensity of it. No one else but Malfoy had ever touched him there and it was _infuriating _that the blond knew – and worse, that he _got off_ on the fact!

"And your wedding ring is so lovely," she admired. Harry just nodded, until another painful squeeze probed him into words.

"Mal- _Draco_ has good taste," Harry said lamely.

"I can see," she replied, a flicker in her eyes meaning _him _and not the ring, but before Harry could reply, the hand groping his cock moved faster and he gasped at the sudden flood of repulsive pleasure that throbbed in his veins. He turned swiftly to face Malfoy, to get him to stop, but the blond was closer than he thought and he turned straight into Malfoy's lips.

Those gathered at the table made approving sounds and even cheers at what they evidently saw as eager passion. Harry's colour darkened and he winced as he tried to pull back, but Malfoy's hand on his cock tightened until his eyes threatened to water so he remained, impassive and humiliated while the blond's tongue swept across his tightly pressed lips. Harry felt quite sick…

Well aware that all eyes were on them yet again, Malfoy delved his tongue deeper (against his mothers plead for discretion) and swept it over the untouched places of Harry's mouth. He could feel Harry trying to pull away, so he squeezed his hand tighter over that vulnerable length. Suddenly, he drew away and the hundreds gathered there at the immense table sat stunned to silence at what they had just witnessed.

"It is a beautiful thing, between two men," the woman beside Narcissa murmured, "Even if I did think your son, Narcissa, would have been better suited to a nice young lady."

"Whatever makes him happy," Narcissa replied idly, though in her silence, Harry saw something more meaningful, more secretive in her eyes.

"One has to keep up in this day and age," Lucius added with an alarming smirk. "A toast, to my son and his new husband!" He and the guests raised their glasses and Harry felt like he had shrunk into his chair, all-but gasping with relief as Malfoy's hand was withdrawn. _At least he didn't say wife,_ Harry thought bitterly, although his impression of this marriage so far seemed more like a daunting eternity as Draco Malfoy's decoration and slave.

_And you made an unbreakable vow that you would let him fuck you, _he reminded himself with disdain. _You've whored your body off for your friends' well-being and security._

That simple hand on his crotch had made his stomach lurch, now the prospect of being forced into it completely – time after time, made vomit creep up his throat…

"I need to…go," Harry insisted under his breath as Lucius resumed his seat. Harry (regretfully) flicked his eyes up to Draco for an answer, but no sooner had Draco's lips parted, Lucius cut him off.

"Nonsense," Lucius retorted smoothly, pulling his napkin onto his lap as the starter dish moved before each of the guests with a _pop_. "You are a grown man, Mr _Malfoy_, you can wait until after."

Harry winced, staring down at the numerous choices of silverware in which to eat the soup. He hadn't really given thought to the feast, but now he realised it was yet another way he was meant to behave that he had absolutely _no _idea of.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he murmured, even lower and he felt Draco's head twist to him but again, Lucius Malfoy spoke first.

"Then I regret you will not be able to enjoy your meal but do not stop everyone else from doing so," He stared at Harry carefully for a moment, "Stay where you are and eat, my son requires much of your scrawny body tonight." The last was a dangerous whisper only Harry and Draco could hear, but only Harry winced at the insinuation. Resigned to his struggle of keeping down the food, he glanced at Draco to see which spoon he'd picked up to eat the soup with, but saw his menacing gaze instead.

Narcissa intervened calmly at her husband's words. "Come, Dearest, if he doesn't feel so well then allow Draco to escort him to the bathroom?" She suggested.

"No," He replied blankly, "Both of them will make a scene if they leave together without so much as touching the feast." He looked over at Harry unsmpathetically then. "That's my final word, now eat."

Draco sighed in frustration when he caught Harry observing him out of the corner of his eye. Someone like Harry Potter – _Harry Malfoy_, he corrected himself, ought to know basic table manners!

"Honestly _Harry_, is there _nothing _you can do right?" He teased under his breath.

Harry's gaze narrowed with irritation, before he remembered he was supposed to make this marriage look…amiable, and he let his anger fall from his face and watched Draco pick up a particular spoon to dip into the soup. Harry copied him quietly, deciding on keeping his head down for the rest of the meal – which would have been a good plan, were his _husband _and father-in-law not intent on intensifying his humiliation.

"Is the manor to your liking?" Lucius tried at civil conversation. Harry blinked up at him for a moment.

"It's…nice I suppose – interior decorating is lost on me to be honest." A hard kick to his shin reminded him to lie _better_ and he threw a quick scowl at Draco before adding, "I suppose I won't be seeing any of it outside of Draco's room for the next few days anyway." A few of the nearest guests laughed pleasantly and Harry cringed slightly. How could they honestly believe him?! _I don't believe for one _second _that I can_ possibly _look in love with Malfoy_, he thought as he made a fuss of finishing his starter, the warm fluid soothing his roiling belly somewhat. Maybe the sickness was a mix of missing breakfast and lunch _and_ the prospect of his fate that loomed overhead…

The dinner dragged on slowly, Harry's struggle with the correct cutlery turning him off of the meal, until they reached dessert. A large chocolate truffle drizzled with honey toppings and mini marshmallow squares. Even to someone in Harry's position, even with his nausea, the meal was appetising. But when the guests began scoffing down their pudding, Harry couldn't help but think Ron would have fitted this picture better and that only tugged his mind towards where his best friend would be ranting and raving right about now, having discovered his fate…

Draco seemed to be one of the few people who remained pleasant-mannered when he cut his truffle with his fork, and chewed down onto it. He licked around the sticky substance suggestively, _feeling _Harry watching when his lips encased the chocolate piece and began melting it with slow, deliberate sucks. "Hmm, this is really perfect," he murmured huskily, before diving in for another piece. He nudged Harry once again when he noticed him staring in disgust.

"I…" Harry attempted speech, merely turning his attention back to his own food with embarrassment. He poked at it uselessly for a few moments before bringing it to his mouth and eating as artlessly as he could manage. It was hard, with the chocolate melting on his tongue like that – he'd never had anything like it before, not even at Hogwarts and it set his taste-buds alight. But then, out of the corner of his eye he caught another sinful glimpse of Malfoy's show. "Stop it!" He insisted under his breath to Draco only.

Draco grinned at Harry from behind his fork and licked round the brown sugary substance, his tongue crushing the chocolate tip when he finally slid his bite past those pink lips and deep into his throat. He knew how uncomfortable Harry was getting beside him, but that only gave him the inclination to continue. "Hmmm," He sighed, swallowing hard so Harry could hear.

Harry winced at the down-low twitch Draco's actions inspired. _Sick,_ he spat at himself, his throat tight around his own food as he swallowed. _Just because he owns you doesn't mean you have to quiver like a _girl _at every move!_ His stomach felt full long before he had finished his dessert, but he forced down the rest in any case to not be rude, he didn't need to be reprimanded on his manners by anyone in front of this many people.

Glancing to Draco again, he saw the blond talking to his father about something of no consequence and was left to sit there awkwardly, silently. He hated how he was left to constantly look to the bastard for instruction as to what to do next. Hopefully once this was over they would have minimal public excursions, but he doubted it. He was fully aware that he was going to be used in more than one aspect, the task of getting the Malfoy family back in good with the public and the ministry being one of them…

_Well if they're convinced I'm madly in love with Malfoy then that would definitely redeem them,_ he thought with a sneer, jumping slightly when Draco got to his feet beside him, pulling out Harry's chair in a false display of chivalry and Harry got up quickly before Draco could yank the chair from under him. "We're going?" He asked steadily, but his apprehension flickered clearly in his eyes, and Draco smiled viciously.

"Very well," Lucius nodded, allowing both of them to depart from the table, those seated offering a loud applause that just made Harry's stomach lurch. They really had no idea what he was about to suffer.

Draco lead Harry out into the foyer and up the main, curving staircase, towards his part of the manor, grasping his hand tightly though there were no witnesses to see it (and therefore no need). Harry's hand felt hot against Draco's slightly cooler one and Draco couldn't help but think that Harry's body temperature had risen because of his little show. He smiled broadly, feeling smug. He knew Harry wouldn't be able to resist him forever, and watching him struggle and thrash beneath his will was what made the victory more thrilling.

"To my rooms then, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco sneered, looking over at his dark-haired husband from the corner of his eye, as he ushered him closer to their destination. Harry looked terrified, it couldn't have been going any _more_ perfect.

_~To Be Continued..._


	3. 3- Teeth of Defeat

[Three]

**Teeth of Defeat**

* * *

Harry swallowed hard, the last bite of his dessert seeming to have not been able to move past the lump there, leaving that sweet, seductive taste lingering in his mouth. The long corridor on the second floor lead them away from the noise of the guests, and Draco paused after a few moments, pushing open a large oak door. Harry followed him in without being asked, closing the door behind him as he stared around the room they had entered.

Draco had lead him straight into a large sitting area, books lining the walls at the far end where a warming fire burned in the elaborate, marble hearth. It didn't look _unlike_ the Gryffindor common room, albeit with a colour scheme of lush, dark greens. Even he had to admit, it was…_warming_, despite his nervousness.

"This is all ours," Draco explained vacantly, moving over to push open one of the nearest doors. "This is the bathroom – and this is our bedroom."

Harry nodded dumbly, all of it a tad overwhelming, making his legs shake as if they would buckle under his queasy stomach when he moved over to the new door Draco was holding open for him expectantly. Harry's eyes widened slightly, daunted by the four-poster, draped in silver and emerald fabrics that dominated the bedroom. He swallowed again, not liking the way his possessions seemed to have been dumped in a large trunk at the end of the bed.

"You can sort your stuff out and put it all away tomorrow," Draco said stiffly, as if reading the scowl that had shot across Harry's features. Harry just nodded again, his eyes lingering over the dark, rich wardrobes at the far end of the room. The heavy curtains were already drawn for the night but Harry could see that they would be grand, near floor-to-ceiling windows out of his beautiful prison.

_He says 'ours' as if I really am his equal_, he thought bitterly, _but only because he knows I'm not…_

Suddenly, that iron-like grip seized his upper arm again and Harry jumped back a few steps, sneering at the lustful smirk that had possessed his _husband's _lips.

"Follow me," Draco said sternly, his grip tightening on Harry's wrist. The blond strolled ahead quickly, yanking Harry towards a corner of the room which was draped with long black curtains that hung to the floor with long, elegant trains like a ball gown. He moved the curtains aside and to Harry's sheer horror, revealed a chunky, iron door. Draco smiled sinfully, waving his wand over it to banish the wards for their presence only before pulling it open. The groaning creak of the hinges sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

Suddenly, Draco took hold of Harry's hair, (sensing his intention to bolt) and swung him toward the pitch darkness beyond the door. Harry stumbled and struggled in the blackness, feeling stairs beneath his feet – a never-ending flight to his doom that Draco was dragging him down. "I have a wedding gift for you, Mr_ Malfoy_," Draco hissed darkly.

"Get off me!" Harry demanded uselessly, his voice raised an octave in fear. "Get off me – GET OFF ME!" His panic soared up, rearing it's serpentine head before lunging for his heart, crushing it spitefully. His breath clawed at his throat as he screamed. It was doubtful if anyone could hear him in the void of the manor, and even if they could, did they know this was here? His mind wandered to the vile, vulgar torments Draco Malfoy was about to exact upon him and he let out another furious, _desperate _scream. He whirled on the stairs, shoving Draco back roughly into the banister and clawing at the hand that had hold of his arm.

"I'll kill you! Let go of me! _Don't touch me_!"

A vicious laugh ripped from Draco's mouth at his fruitless demands, ringing through the darkness and sending a cold, bone-shuddering quiver through his body. He could handle torment, he could handle pain, even humiliation but what Draco had planned he _knew_ he couldn't handle. Malfoy gave him a rough shove and Harry yelped as he stumbled back, crashing hard onto the unforgiving floor.

Suddenly, a blinding light flashed across the room. Harry winced, struggling onto his knees and rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the floor. Shakily, his eyes adjusted to the light. A shocking jolt of pain erupted in his head, he hoped he had a concussion, maybe if he was lucky he'd pass out and never wake up! That was certainly preferable to what fate awaited him in the room that came to light around him.

Harry felt his full belly lurch at the sight of his torture chamber, designed especially for him. The hard floor was dressed in dark red carpet, the hot light from somewhere above gleaming menacingly from the devices – some of which he had never _imagined_ existed! Nearest to him hung a wooden rack with cuffs marking either corner – to restrain _him_! There were all sorts of similar _things_ through the room, ropes and chains suspended from the ceiling, a bed similar to the ones at St Mungo's that possessed restraints made him shudder, as did the machine rigged with obscene _phallic_ objects that sat at the end.

He staggered to his feet shakily, his movements impeded by dizziness from the fall and by the eerie presence of Draco at his back, drawing in. A leather stool with another rubber penis sticking out the top stopped him in his tracks. _What kind of room is this_?! His mind swirled with panic and pain and he stumbled back, right into Draco, overwhelmed by the sight of the endless table lining the side of the room, or more accurately, the torture devices laying on them – _waiting for him!_

"L-Let me _go_!" Harry insisted, his voice nearly lost as his wide gaze remained fixed on the room's horrors.

Draco raised his hands to Harry's shoulders as he backed into him and clutched them, causing Harry to stiffen. Leaning in he breathed hotly over the soft shell of his ear, smirking gleefully when he felt Harry wriggle beneath his hold. Perfect. With a chuckle he shoved him forwards into the wall so he smashed into one of the tall restraints roughly. It seemed Harry really was going to fight back.

"Don't fight me," Draco commanded, forcing Harry's arms apart so they were spread either side of him, his forearm pressuring the back of Harry's neck so he was unable to move and the blond heard him wince at such painful restraint. His face pressed against the wooden panel of the device that ran down the centre and Draco quickly fought to buckle up the straps. He bit into Harry's shoulder spitefully, and Harry cried out, slamming his head backwards, narrowly missing Draco's face. "Stop bloody moving!" Draco hissed, but Harry didn't stop, in fact his struggles worsened, especially when Draco finally managed to restrain his wrists and strap them up.

After an agonising struggle, Harry was bound, his back towards an observing Draco who spared him only a brief glance, before stripping his trousers away roughly. Harry snarled, yanking at the leather cuffs when the cold air breached his bare bottom. _What was this?_

Silver eyes stared at the pure and untouched skin in thought…and lust.

Approaching the table where his torturous toys were sitting, Draco stared at the selection for a moment, before selecting a long, black leather whip. He caressed the length with his fingers seductively, running his tongue up the side and leaving a trail of spittle along it's tail. He tapped it in his hands a few times, seeing Harry flinch over his shoulder at the light swat sound of it tapping his palm. He relished that fear, that anxiety, and the smirk it inspired was still in place when he walked back over to where Harry was bound.

"W-Whatever it is," Harry began, evidently failing to keep the desperation from his voice, "Don't – I can't – I can't_ do_ this!" He insisted, tugging violently at the bonds of the wooden rack. "I've never done…" He winced, loathing not knowing what to expect. His inexperience in this type of _play_ was his downfall – the not knowing was worse than anything else. He shuddered furiously when he felt Malfoy's presence close to him, his breath at the nape of his neck...

****CENSORED. FOR THE FULL CHAPTER WITH LOVE SCENES PLEASE SEE THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE****

Draco got to his feet. He stared down at an exhausted and trembling Harry, still lying there, shaking and quivering on the floor. Remaining naked, Draco grew impatient in waiting for Harry to meet his eyes and kicked him slightly in the side so he would turn to look up at him.

"We can go to sleep now, I've had our bed prepared," Draco flung Harry his shirt and turned away, almost as though he didn't even seem to care about what he had just done to Harry.

Harry remained still for a moment, not trusting his voice as his body quivered with dry, silent sobs. He felt like he was choking on the very air slithering in his nose and he winced as his shirt fell over him, but did not move. "I…I think I'd rather stay here," Harry murmured quietly, not looking up at him, but that foot kicked him hard in the side again, and that glare weighed heavy on his back. Did he really have the energy to fight anymore tonight?

Slowly, shakily he rose to his feet, pulling his shirt over his body to stop Draco from looking at him, before scooping up his clothes (and wand) and following exhaustedly after the blond as he lead them into the bedroom suite he had glimpsed earlier. The trek back up the stairs was shaky at best, and he stumbled a few times (much to Draco's disdain). By the time they got into the bedroom Harry had to lean against the wall to catch his breath.

He watched carefully as Draco peeled back the fresh sheets and slid in – but that was all he did, watch. Did the arsehole really expect him to crawl into bed with him like a whipped dog waiting for forgiveness? After what he had done, not a few minutes ago? Harry shook his head in revulsion, his hand gliding over his uneasy stomach still. Everything ached and burned – he hadn't felt this abused even after that final battle, where he had literally _died._

Draco looked up at him with stern eyes, for the first time since they'd left his_ torture chamber_ and Harry's eyes widened in apprehension, wary of what may happen next. What did Malfoy want now? It was then that he realised that those self-loathing tears had crept down his cheeks and he wiped them away bitterly.

"Don't just stand there," Draco hissed as he ran his hand sexily over the silky sheets for Harry to come and join him, only to see Harry appearing more skittish at the suggestion and remain frozen in place. He turned over (almost sulking) to lay his side and flicked the bedside lamp off, plunging into darkness. "Stand there and freeze then, see if i care," Draco spat, no longer facing him, his head sinking into the pillow.

Harry winced as the darkness swept across his vision. He wasn't scared of the dark, (living in a cupboard for most of his childhood had banished such trivial fears) the only thing he was afraid of right now was himself and how easily he had surrendered under Malfoys's control. It hadn't mattered that he didn't want it, or how he struggled despite the pain it caused – nothing had mattered and he had lost himself anyway.

The draft that swept under the door licked over his vulnerable skin and he shivered silently, his feet carrying him toward the bed without his permission. He cringed at the way his aching body wanted to melt into the silk sheets and at the warmth of Malfoy nowhere _near_ far enough from him. He didn't want to be warm, he didn't want to be comfortable here…

Curling up on the edge of the bed, Harry tugged his glasses off and set them on the side table, before pulling the thin material of his shirt tightly around himself in search of comfort he didn't deserve. Behind him on the bed, Harry heard Malfoy make a noise of irritated disdain, before sitting stiffly and dropping the duvet over Harry's shuddering body. The blond seemed to remain there, staring at him through the dimness for a moment, before clucking his tongue irritably and turning over to sleep – ignoring Harry's choking sobs.

~To Be Continued...


	4. 4- Waking to Nightmares

[Four]

**Waking to Nightmares**

It was still dark when Harry spiralled back from the blissful abyss of unaware. His lashes fluttered and his vision blurred as he rubbed the sleep and dried tears from his eyes. For a moment he forgot his imprisonment, but then the events of the night before came crashing down, like the cliff-face he had been clinging to so desperately had crumbled away beneath him. Harry winced as he sat up slowly, his backside throbbing menacingly. He surveyed the room, green eyes adjusting to the dimness quickly and he saw that the black-out curtains were drawn over the windows still – explaining why it was dark despite the fact that it _must_ be morning by now. His body ached like never before but he hadn't slept so well in years…

_Probably all the torture, _he thought bitterly as he turned his gaze over the slumbering blond at his side._ It tired me out._ Seizing his glasses from the side and sliding them on his nose carefully, Harry surveyed Malfoy. He looked so calm and peaceful without that derogatory sneer creasing his young face. Harry sighed, crawling out of the bed quietly and slipping out of the room. His body felt sticky and raw from last night – he wanted to wash those vile memories and feelings away, then maybe he could pretend they never happened.

The bathroom of their suite put the Hogwarts Prefect's bathroom to shame. The dark tiles glistened in startling contrast to the silver faucets. Along the side, through a wall of glass stood the shower (that looked like a room in itself) and Harry stared at it thoughtfully as he moved over to the toilet to relieve himself. The shower would probably be sufficient but the ridiculous sized bath looked too tempting. Trust the Malfoys to have a bath that looked more like a_ swimming pool_!

_And with any luck I'll drown anyway and escape this mess, _he thought, with a wince as pain rushed across his limbs when he moved to run the water into the bath. He gave a startled smile when the water ran pink, then purple and foamed as it filled the tub. He loved magic and could not help but _feel_ the magic of the water rush across his skin in soothing, massaging ripples. He set his glasses on the side carefully and sank down so that the bubbles sloshed around his neck.

Every ache and pain felt instantly relieved and he could not help but wonder if maybe it was designed to react differently to every person's wishes. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully in his moment of freedom, before sinking down lower, totally submerged for that moment, so that he did not hear his _husband _slip in through the door.

Draco stepped over to Harry quietly through the steam and placed his hands on his shoulders, causing him to jump in surprise. He shot up through the bubbles and water splashed out over the floor. "I see you worked out how to use the bathtub," Draco noted huskily, leaning in to nibble Harry's still very tender ear. The way Draco slid his tongue over Harry's lobe was almost playful, like they had spent last night like a happy couple of lovers, just married (even though they technically were) but Harry was anything but happy. And he did not enjoy yesterdays events in the slightest.

The slytherin felt Harry tremble under his touch for a few more moments, before stepping back into the steam to survey him carefully. Slowly he climbed in the other end of the bathtub and sank into the bubbles beside his _wife_. "The temperature is pretty perfect for someone so incapable," Draco sneered. Harry scowled back. What was he thinking, suggesting Harry couldn't even run a bath correctly?! Then again, He had just been surprised. Draco swished his hand through the warm, foamy water to grasp Harry's limp cock and started to fiddle.

"Can't I have a moment to myself?" Harry mumbled quietly, miserably, turning his flushed face away from Draco, one hand pushing ardently on the blond's chest to get him off and the other yanking at the hand around his lifeless cock. "Malfoy, get your hands off me!" He slapped Malfoy hard but that only made the hand around his prick squeeze insistently as the Blond pressed in, trapping Harry between the wall of the sunken bath and Draco's hard, ready body.

Draco's free hand caught the hair behind his head, holding him roughly so that he was forced to look into those eyes that – right now – he _loathed_ more than anything! "Don't!" Harry demanded, "Everything still hurts from last night – you can have what you want, just let me _rest_ for minute!" The latter was a desperate, exhausted gasp. The retreat of the water was just one more comfort he'd been robbed of.

"You've been resting all night," Draco insisted as he gripped Harry's limp cock in his hand under the protection of the bubbles. "Not to mention when you signed over your name and became a Malfoy you signed yourself over to me, as my wife." The slytherin stared with stern, silver eyes at Harry, who only wished to be alone in the comfort of the water for a second or two. Of course, Draco would never allow him that small mercy. He shifted closer to Harry in the tub so that their shoulders were touching, only separated by the frothy waves of water.

"Maybe if you hadn't been such a spiteful _twat _last night, a few hours sleep would have been enough to heal me!" Harry declared furiously, struggling and shoving hard against Malfoy's shoulders – he was sure he'd never sworn so much in his life before this all started. "And I am _not_ your bloody wife!" He was aware he was screaming, just as he was aware it would get him nowhere – they were in a complete different_ wing_ of the house after all…

"Get your nasty hand off me!" He screamed, "And keep your cock _away_ from me!" He cringed at the memory of Draco's cum filling him up, it was disgusting, degrading – and it was all he was going to get of that he was sure. The blond had all-but _laughed_ when he'd asked him to use a condom.

"Fine," Draco hissed, shockingly and to Harry's surprise, he stood from the bathtub, still dripping wet and naked as he flounced out of the steamy room, not even bothering to dry himself when he retreated to the bedroom. Storming over to the cabinet at the side, he yanked open the door, the hinges screeching in protest and reached in for a bottle of gin – and a little purple velvet pouch that he took round to the bedside table and emptied. The powdery white contents tumbled out. The once-slytherin lined it up neatly, before quickly throwing his hand back, then forward again to inhale the entire line up his nostril.

He snuffled and chucked his head aside when the vile stuff hit his brain. The rush started to build and his eyes watered as his attention snapped back to his new husband still in the other room. "I'm out of your bloody way so you can have the bath you wanted so much!" The blond called back to him.

"No need to shout." Harry watched the blond whirl unsteadily to face him. Harry winced, he _had_ been a virgin and naïve of most of the things that he had endured last night, but he knew what he had just seen – he was worldly enough to see that. The Malfoy family had flaws like any other, but it was only now that he was apart of it that he could truly see the cracks in their_ perfect, pure_ world.

Harry held the towel tighter around his naked body uneasily. Malfoy was vile enough without being under the combined influence of drink and drugs – he hadn't seen a wizard hooked on it though, especially a pureblood. _Malfoy must be more troubled than he lets on, _Harry thought as he edged towards the trunk at the end of the bed that housed everything he owned, and dragged out some jeans, t-shirt and clean underwear. _No wonder he was all too happy to get a husband he can humiliate and control – it make his life seem less of a mess if I'm the one screaming and crying because he's ruined mine so badly…_

It didn't make him dislike this man – this_ boy_ any less, but it certainly lit the spark of empathy that was so easily touched. Not pity, understanding. He wondered often how his life might have ended if he had never been released from Privet Drive – the answer was standing right there, watching him with a dark look in those eyes.

Harry raised his gaze to the blond warily, tugging on his white briefs gingerly, flinching at the lewd comment he was _sure_ Malfoy murmured about his white underwear and him not being pure enough to wear it. "Shut up," Harry murmured dully, turning away from him and moving over to the bed to lay his fresh clothes on them as he searched subtly for his wand. He had agreed to let Draco take his body but nothing else, and with how the blond looked right now Harry didn't want his only defence too far away. His hand searched the side-cabinet however, and found nothing. He turned to Malfoy suspiciously, his heart leaping into his throat as he saw that refined smirk at his_ husband's _lips and his – _Harry's_ wand in his open palm, the one not occupied with the refilled glass of gin.

"Give me my wand, Malfoy," Harry demanded stiffly, despite how he was edging towards the door. He could take his chances and run if need be, he wasn't sure of Lucius but Narcissa didn't seem to want to see anything less than honourable from her only son, and Draco seemed to adore her (and want to please her) more than anything…

Draco rushed to the door quickly, just before Harry reached it and stood, blocking the exit. "You won't be speaking about any of this, to anyone. Do you understand?" The slytherin hissed, throwing Harry's wand aside and seizing his shoulders roughly. His hands clenched tightly around the joints of Harry's shoulders and squeezed, keeping him bound in that once place as his stern gaze faded to a blurry haze and he wobbled on his feet.

He shoved Harry forwards with a jolt and pressured him back into the other wall with a thump. Harry wriggled under his grip but failed to break free when the blond leant in and began nibbling his neck roughly. He was all over the place, his tongue was flicking from one side of his collarbone to the other, and Harry knew instantly, something was wrong.

"You… Y-You have to listen to me when I telling you, you're not to speak of this – to anyone!" By _'this'_, he meant his little occasional taster of drugs and booze. Draco slid down Harry's front clumsly then, doubling over with his hand flying to his stinging stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick…"

Harry startled at that statement, remembering all to well how that exact declaration had been answered when he had screamed it last night. Last night…

It made him shudder as Draco's body lingered near him, knelt at his feet in pain, incoherent. Harry ground his teeth furiously as he watched him, his hands curling into fists. Sometimes he completely loathed the confounded, _insufferable_ chivalry that lingered in his chest no matter how someone had hurt him.

If Ron were here he'd tell him to drop the hero complex and let the ferret drown in his own vomit. Harry smiled sadly at that as he looped one of Draco's arms round his shoulders and heaved him to his feet. This definitely reminded him of the wussy Draco Malfoy of their school days, groaning in pain in his ear. He winced at the struggle to pull him into the bathroom and dropped him carefully on the floor by the loo – just in time for Draco to throw the contents of his stomach up into the toilet bowl. Harry wrinkled his nose at that but did not move away – the idiot had taken drugs on top of alcohol, and though it was probably best he threw up, Harry knew better than to leave him there. He sat on the laundry basket quietly, waiting for Draco to make the next move.

The blond's eyes watered and his throat felt tight as he climbed up to the sink and ran the water. He took the glass he normally used for washing his mouth after he brushed his teeth and filled it with water – he had to get that taste from his mouth quick before he threw up at the thought of it. Reaching over for the towel he kept his gaze averted from Harry as he wiped his mouth clean.

"I suppose under this pale complexion it's hard to tell if I'm really looking sick isn't it?" He ground out, running his hand through his somewhat ruffled hair and turned to Harry blindly, without really looking at him. "I think I took to much," he murmured, mostly to himself, "I should have remembered after last time how sick I was…" He carefully walked back out of the bathroom and slumped back on the bed, holding his stomach as he reached over to the side to pull out a cigarette.

Harry sneered. "You have a lot of occasional bad tendencies – you…you didn't _taste _like a regular smoker last night. So this is all…what? When you need it?" Draco shrugged, that was an affirmative answer though and Harry watched him carefully for a moment, the blond seeming to improve with the alcohol out of his stomach. His husband couldn't handle the drink, and by the way he coughed as he inhaled, Harry assumed he didn't particularly _like_ the cigarette either. It was all an escape, some people cut themselves, Draco was just hurting himself in other ways…

"You've been doing this since the war, haven't you?" He asked, his only answer that same half-nod, half-shrug. So the blond only took it when he was overwhelmed, or needed release. _As if beating on me and raping me last night wasn't enough,_ he thought bitterly. "I won't… I won't tell anyone, it wouldn't help anyone if I did – even in revenge," he explained carefully, and Draco frowned as he breathed out the smoke, evidently revolted by the taste of it, but not stopping. He seemed confused by Harry's graciousness.

"Piss off, Harry," Draco sneered, irritated at Harry's attempt to try and understand him regardless of what he'd done. "We can't all be bloody heroes like you," He said, finally stubbing out the cigarette and banishing it from existence with his wand, before getting to his feet. He stumbled over to Harry, the side-effects of his substance abuse still making him shaky and irrational. A small snarl of irritation tore from his lips then, as he grabbed Harry by the wrists and pinned him down to the bed.

"I may have all these occasional bad habits, but the one permanent one I now have is you." He grinned at the repulsed look that touched Harry's face again.

"You _stink_," Harry sneered, "Of smoke and alcohol, get the hell off me!" He threw himself up, knocking the wobbly Malfoy off slightly and leapt across the room for his wand that had been dropped on the floor. He gasped in pain as Malfoy seized him roughly and threw him back to the bed, face-down. Harry winced as the blond pulled his arms sharply round to the small of his back, his shoulders protesting furiously.

His eyes widened and his struggles stilled as the shock of a cool, thick strip of leather was wrapped around his arms behind his back. Turning his cheek into the mattress to look back over his shoulder at Malfoy, Harry flinched as the blond snapped the waistband of his underwear back into his body menacingly. "What are you doing?" Harry asked carefully, that suffocating, _trapped_ feeling swelling with the panic in his chest at being bound – again.

Malfoy's other hand reached under him, tugging his belly-button piercing that he'd put there teasingly, so gently that combined with the heat of his palm brushing his backside, Harry could not help but gasp at the pleasure of it. This was so messed up –_ he_ was so messed up!

The blond smiled, his foul breath dusting over the back of Harry's neck when he leant in, his naked flesh, hotter than Harry's, brushed up against that cooler area of skin – his hardening prick sliding along Harry's crack. He felt Harry shudder below him, still bound but not ceasing to fight against him, even if there was no use. It was part of his charm, he supposed.

"And I haven't the intention to eradicate this bad habit yet," Draco sneered. His voice lowered when he pushed away and rolled Harry over so he could see him.

****CENSORED. FOR THE FULL CHAPTER WITH LOVE SCENES PLEASE SEE THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE****

Laying there for a long time like that, Harry fidgeted, trying to speed up Draco's freeing of his arms, or at least getting _off _him. He winced at the feel of that hot, stale breath in his ear and turned away in a struggle to breathe. The blond was bloody heavy…

Every part of his body that connected with Malfoy felt sticky and raw, and his arse clenched around the load laying wetly inside. He flinched as Malfoy's diminishing erection pulsed every now and then or when his heart thudded against his chest. It felt wrong to lay like this afterwards, as if they were lovers and this was something more than the proud, selfish blond taking what he wanted without consequence.

_A fine mess I've gotten myself into, Hermione_, he thought wretchedly, praying they never had to know he had ever fallen this far. It didn't matter that he had not broken, that seemed a small victory for the price he was now paying. Despite the pain he faded slowly, into an uneasy, shaky sleep.

The blissful escape, was short-lived as a shuddering knock echoed through the chambers, startling both boys on the bed awake. Harry winced as Draco peeled himself off of him with a start, yanking the top sheet over himself and bidding whoever it was to enter – having no concern for covering Harry's dignity. A small,curious looking house elf popped into the room beside the bed. The grey-ing, blue-eyed creature gave Harry a sympathetic glance before he bowed low to both of them.

"Master Draco," he croaked, "There are unexpected visitors at the door – your mother would not have them admitted but they would not leave without seeing you… A Mr and Mrs Ron Weasley?"

Malfoy's eyes flew accusingly to Harry at that, but Harry looked more horrified than relieved and the dark-haired boy said nothing.

Draco lumbered over to the door, opening it for Harry to walk through. Harry shakily nodded, grabbing a fresh jacket from his (still unpacked) bag beside the bed.

On descending the stairs, they could see a red-head and a bushy haired girl standing on the threshold, still nto having been admitted through the door. The crimson-faced man Ron Weasley had become clenched his fist when he saw them approach, and instantly Draco knew to make his departure.

Once he was within arms reach, Ron tugged Harry in by his shirt collar, whispering harshly over that abused ear. "What the _hell_ do you think you're playing at? I want you to divorce him right now!"

Harry winced, every breath breaking his lungs, every cruel whisk of cold, bitter air slashing through the bruises and abrasions like sharp, spiteful teeth. He pulled back from Ron's grasp, stumbling with the effort and the world twisted. He fell back against the wall, his backside tender from the abuse it had taken and turned his gaze to the side somewhere – unable to look at Ron in all his rage and Hermione in her…_pity_…

"Hermione told you everything?" He asked carely, fully aware that the Malfoys were still just inside the door and could hear everything. Though after last night and this morning, he wasn't sure he cared what they thought. Ron nodded, his face set with fury – Harry knew without even having to look at him that his skin would be as red as his hair with the brewing anger.

"Then you know why…you know…you _know_." He knew he was making no sense, but the taste of Draco's single cigarette still lingered on his tongue and he felt quite nauseous. Ron was close, too close to his bruised, soiled body. "He's my…my _husband _now. If I leave him we'll all lose everything – if it was just me…but it's not. I'm doing what I need to, to keep you all alive and happy, because if I don't then the whole war, _everything _was for nothing." He paused then, risking a glance up at his two friends.

They seemed frozen in their surveillance of him. The sympathy in Hermione's eyes stung more than Ron's seething, and so he focused on that as he gave an exhausted sigh. "Go home and play with Hugo for me. It's not…" His voice trailed off. He _had _been about to say _"it's not that bad" _– but it was, and worse.

"I never belonged anywhere," Harry said at last, bitterness twisting his exhaustion. If he could infuriate them like he had so many times at Hogwarts then perhaps they would leave, and avoid seeing the extent of his failure. "It's not like I was sacrificing anything so fabulous as long as you were still–"

"But you're sacrificing your _freedom_, Harry!" Hermione interjected, aghast at the martyr he had become right under her nose.

"I've never had freedom," Harry shot at her, his eyes dark. "The ministry have always controlled where I showed my face, they tried to control where I _worked_ – then before that Dumbledore, the Dursleys… I'm tired of it all. I don't belong to anyone, I don't _belong _anywhere. So I may as well sit my arse here as long as it does the people I care about some good!"

He pushed himself off the wall slowly, approaching the door, but as his foot touched the threshold he felt Ron seize his arm roughly and drag him back. Harry yelped in (accidentally inflicted) agony and Ron's hand released him instantly. His eyes flew wide with shock and he looked between Harry and Hermione quickly, before lurching forwards and yanking at the jacket Harry had rushed into.

"No!" Harry screamed, shoving Ron backwards in desperation, but not before his two best friends' eyes flared with horror at the sight of the intensive bruises marring his body and the piercing. Harry wrapped the jacket around himself tightly, folding his arms across his chest as if he hoped that would give him some sort of comfort – it didn't, nothing did.

They were watching him as if he had gone mad, or as if he had just spontaneously combusted! Harry dropped his eyes to the ground when Ron finally found his voice.

"T-Those…those marks!" Ron hissed, his ire flicking to gaze at the Malfoys still standing inside, not far from the open door. "How can you stay with him if he's done this to you? It's not even been a _day_! What is he going to do in a month – a year?!"

"Malfoy!" Harry called out to the blond, still keeping his head low. He did not raise it, even when he felt Draco come to stand in the doorway. "I want to go back in," he said simply, without raising his eyes. He'd be damned if anyone, least of all Malfoy and _especially_ not his friends, saw the empty, glassiness that had spread across them.

Malfoy looked triumphant as he glanced between the once golden trio. "Which means you too can leave, _goodbye_," Malfoy said blankly and slammed the tall standing door, so Ron and Hermione were left bewildered on the other side.

"Harry…?" Hermione gasped, to no one in particular.

Ron's fury rushed through his blood like lava and without thinking, his fists clenched and began crashing into the metal plated door, over and over again. But the prison was closed and Harry wasn't coming back, didn't seem to want to…

"I think you should get dressed properly now, Harry," Draco said huskily, almost bitingly when they re-entered the bedroom together. His face was scrunched up, and he had this ashamed, disgusted look stretching across his features, one which unnerved Harry, who couldn't for the life of him figure out where that expression stemmed from.

Harry just nodded dully, silently thankful that Draco had relented, and allowed him to escape from the torment of his friends' gazes. Hermione did not judge, she pitied, which was worse, and Ron's eyes had burned with fury, and Harry was not sure that all of that anger was directed at Malfoy only.

He didn't say his thanks aloud, however, knowing full well when he had seen that smug smirk spread across Draco's lips that he had done it only for the sheer, sadistic pleasure of owning him, of being the one to shut the door in his friends' faces. _His head was probably swooning with the sound of me asking if I could come back in,_ he thought bitterly as he washed the evidence of Draco Malfoy off his body hastily in the bathroom, scrubbing until his skin was red and aching. He didn't even bother to shut the door, there was no hiding in Malfoy's own house, and he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of trying…

He did, however, delay the moment he would have to turn, have to see him lingering in the doorway of the bathroom, by taking his time to towel himself dry. When he could delay no more, he wrapped the towel round his body and headed back for the bedroom to dress properly. The shadow of the blond-haired vulture in the doorway, however, would not budge.

That slick, arrogant smile crept across Draco's lips and Harry glared stubbornly at him, despite his exhaustion, waiting rigidly to be allowed passed. "If you want something then tell me now and get out of my way so I can get dressed," He demanded, but the bastard still didn't move.

"You actually don't have such a bad body, you know," Draco offered smugly, looking him up and down thoughtfully. Harry's eyes widened and Draco was sure Harry didn't want to hear that from him, but that was all the more reason to say it. He swung his hand around Harry's back and pulled him in, gazing sharply, coldly, into those emerald orbs as he dragged him in close. And he laughed.

"Well, on the scale of one to ten, I'd say you were a six."

Harry's sudden shocked expression faded to an irritated one. Draco was unlikely to give him a compliment that wasn't a double-edged sword. What was he thinking in those brief seconds that made him flush?

"And now your face is all flustered like a little girl, _pathetic_," Draco finished, throwing Harry back from his momentary embrace. "No wonder your friends are ashamed of you."

"No wonder," Harry agreed bitterly, "I did soil myself with _you_ after all." He barged past the blond, smacking his shoulder gloriously into his chest as he did so – the pain in his shoulder was worth inflicting it on Malfoy. He snatched clean underwear from the trunk at the bottom of the four-poster and yanked on the clothes he had set out earlier without even looking back at the fuming blond who had followed him back into the bedroom.

_I'm not looking over my shoulder for him every time, like a frightened child,_ he sneered defiantly as he pulled the t-shirt over his head and carded his fingers through his haphazard hair. His mind was still reeling from the indignity of that _'complement'. How dare he?!_

He felt anger and resentment lick up his insides like poison down his throat, burning him to the core. He hadn't forgotten the humiliation of last night by _far_, nor the modifications Draco Malfoy had seen fit to make on his body. He cringed at the realisation, that this was only the start of it.

Draco quickly held his hand to his chest and groaned. _That kind of hurt._ He stormed passed Harry then, a childish tantrum brewing in his bruised ribcage and grabbed his jacket, stomping towards the door. "I'm going out!" He yelled.

Harry went a little rigid at that. What was he supposed to do with him gone – what was he _allowed _to do? He shrugged off the confusion and started dragging his clothing out of the trunk to put in his allocated drawers and wardrobes. "Fine," Harry called back, adding with a quiet murmur only for himself, "Don't hurry back…"

That was the final straw, Draco was to be one to dish it out, but today, it was_ Harry_ who was getting to _him_. He threaded his arms quickly into his jacket and hurried it on. "I didn't intend to hurry home, there's nothing special waiting for me is there? I may even do you the pleasure of not coming back," He bit out.

"That would be blissful," Harry mused, but again, mostly to himself as he started hanging his clothes up – he could do it magically twice as fast, of course, but if he was going to be here a while there was no sense of rushing. He cast Draco a look out of the corner of his eye.

The blond had said nothing about him being able to carry on helping Hermione and the Weasleys with the numerous businesses they shared, but it didn't seem as if the arsehole was going to allow him anything that gave him a respite from his_ husband-ly _duties. That left him with a very large, gaping hole in his life – what was he supposed to fill his time with? _Lying there recovering from whatever vile thing he inflicts on you_, Harry's mind suggested cynically, unable to forget the tenderness to his body.

Feeling the weight of Draco's unbearable presence still, (despite the silence) Harry turned slowly, to see Draco still lingering. "What are you waiting for?" Harry sneered with aversion, "A _goodbye kiss_?!"

Draco growled _"fuck off"_ lowly under his breath at that suggestion. Why was he feeling so easily irritated today. He felt frustrated seeing Harry's face light up when reunited with his friends, even under the circumstances, and the tingling fuzziness to his head still lingered. Menacingly slow, he walked over and grasped Harry's shirt. The indifference returned to the blond's somewhat saddened face then, filling Draco's slate-hued eyes with amusement when he took his goodbye kiss.

"Yes, I was, _Darling_. I wasn't expecting to collect it myself but you will learn," He hissed venomously, throwing Harry back from his hold.

Harry sneered, spitting the taste of Malfoy's lips on the floor and glaring at his retreating back, pondering all the things he could say before biting his tongue and turning back to the armoire that stood open before him. "Have a nice day, _Dear_," he bit out, "I won't wait up for you…"

The bedroom door slammed shut then and Harry dimly heard the main door to their suite do the same in the distance. He was alone – at last. It didn't take anywhere _near_ long enough for him to hang up and fold away all his clothes, and even less to pack all his other possessions into boxes at the base of the wardrobe – he never had accumulated much in the way of worldly goods, he had kept what he needed and that was all.

That, however, left him with nothing to do, and he was sure Draco had been gone but an hour. He grit his teeth as he moved over to the windows, drawing back the curtains to look out beyond the confines of his beautiful prison. The endless valley of lush gardens lay far, far below _wherever_ his and Draco's suite was situated in the Manor. It would probably put the gardens of _Buckingham Palace _under question! He wondered (without really caring) if he was even allowed outside, but it mattered little. However large or grand or stunning the manor and its grounds were, they were all still a prison, and any prison where he was Draco Malfoy's personal, _legal_ whore was an ugly place indeed…

He smoothed his hands over the sheets and made the bed, even made his way into the_ 'living area'_ and tried to read. After two failed attempts at _Quidditch Through The Ages _and even a few tries at some of the novels Draco had left out on the bureau, Harry slammed the book shut and growled with frustration. This was the greatest torture, trapped in this place like a caged animal a the zoo, waiting for his tormentor to return and poke at him some more, though he knew not when. That was the worst, the anticipation, the not knowing when he would return and even then, what he would do. A daily schedule of the _Cruciatus _and having his _balls_ trapped in a vice would be preferable to this!

He paced, he didn't know what to do with himself. What if Draco didn't come back for _days_? Was he allowed to leave their suite? It occurred to him then, that there was nothing stopping him and he was worrying over nothing. Turning to the main door he tugged on the handle and opened it, jumping slightly as he saw someone in the doorway. "Err…Mrs Malfoy?" Harry asked surprised to see her here.

"So eloquent, Harry," she said coolly, though with a pleasant _liveliness_ glimmered in her eyes. She seemed different to Lucius and Draco somehow – perhaps not as warm as Mrs Weasley but still devoted to her family and family only, in a way Harry could not fault.

Harry remembered her acts of bravery in the final battle, and even more clearly, how it was all for Draco. He offered her a small smile at that thought, at the familiarity of a mother who had sacrificed everything for her son, the way his mother had…

"Umm… Can I…?" He cringed at his inability to select the right words, "What can I do for you, Mrs Malfoy?"

"You missed breakfast and lunch, I merely wanted to inform you that, whilst we don't eat together formally except at dinner – which is unarguable – you are allowed to summon the house elves to bring you food." She surveyed him carefully a moment, her lips pursed with thought. "You are quite skinny, you must eat more."

Harry just nodded, what was he supposed to say? He was sure this was kindness in her eyes but he wasn't sure how to react to her, as he was with Lucius and Draco. "Thankyou, Mrs Malfoy?" He tried, moving aside to stand by the bureau again, flicking through some old articles of the _Daily Prophet _since Draco had taken it over, not really looking at them until he saw his name – again, and again. He swallowed nervously as he felt Narcissa looming nearby, and he raised his head to see her soft smile.

"Yes, he has been a tad obsessed with you ever since your first year of school," she explained and Harry frowned.

"I don't know what you mean, Mrs Malfoy," he murmured politely.

Narcissa walked closer to Harry and sat down on the armchair beside him. "His first day at Hogwarts, he sent me an owl telling me how he had met the _Great Harry Potter_, and how furious he was that you were placed in Gryffindor. From that moment on, never a letter passed without your name mentioned, even in petty things…" Her voice trailed off then and she considered him thoughtfully for a moment, her kindness kindling to a room that seemed to him so cold. "I am not sure what it was, but it was not hate that fuelled the obsession, Harry."

That might explain the madness in his eyes and the sheer cruelty of last night – and this morning. Draco had been obsessed with him since he was eleven years old! He would be twenty-one in a month, that meant that the blond had been possessed with the idea of having him, or hurting him or _both_ for ten years – a whole _decade_!

"Mrs Malfoy did Draco… Draco didn't protest much when he was told I had to marry him, did he?" He asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer.

"To tell you the truth, Harry, he did not say much at all on the matter. The older he has grown the more closed he has become, but from a mother's point of view, I do not think that he would do _anything_ he entirely hated or was against, even with the consequences." She smiled then, handing him a cup which she promptly filled with tea.

Harry took it and thanked her, finding that an ethereal calm settled over his anxious, claustrophobic body. He looked up at her through his lashes and wondered how much she knew about Draco and what had done to him last night, and this morning. He wondered if she knew how he felt being here and a light that caught her eyes suggested she knew more than she would ever admit. He was sure, so_ very _sure that she had spiked his tea with some sort of calming potion, but wouldn't voice that suspicion aloud.

"You love your son, Mrs Malfoy," Harry murmured, it had been a thought, not something he had meant to voice – the calmness was relaxing him to the point of a daze. It was as if someone were wrapping a warm blanket around his aching soul and caressing him until he gave in. He was suddenly quite drowsy. He hadn't felt this peaceful since… _I have never felt this relaxed, _he realised, noticing that he was swaying slightly on his feet. He was sure a reincarnated _Voldemort _could walk through the door and he would only manage a dazed, blissful smile.

"Why are you trying to make this…easier for me?" Harry asked, even as she was guiding him towards the bedroom door, it was on the threshold that she left him, and offered a small, considering smile.

"Perhaps I think that you may do my son some good," she said simply, before taking the tea-cup from him and setting it on the side. "It will be expected of you to join us for dinner, that is, as I have said, an inescapable ritual, but Draco will not be back for some time, I suggest you rest."

There was a sadness in her eyes and a sympathy in her voice that, while it soothed his already relaxing body, unnerved him a little also. She knew what Draco was up to? He wondered, even as he nodded politely to her and walked into the bedroom. He heard the door shut softly and moved across to kick his clothes carelessly from his body, each move was sloppy, almost _drunk_ with the exhaustion that the relaxation inspired. It took him so long to pull his pyjama shirt over his head that he gave up on the trousers and crawled under the (somehow cleaned) sheets wearing only the shirt and his underwear.

He set his glasses on the side and his head hit the pillow, his mind going blissfully blank. The bed was so comfortable and the duvet felt nice and heavy, like a warm embrace around his shattered body. Everything was soft and gentle. He felt his eyelids drop and that was the last he knew before sleep took him.

~To Be Continued...


	5. 5- A Devilish Smile

[Five]  
**A Devilish Smile**

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy had said _some time_ – Harry didn't know how long 'some time' was but when he began to stur from his slumber, he didn't feel nor see the sun's light on his eyelids. His eyes fluttered, still half asleep and all he saw was the darkness beyond the open windows, it was night time. If he had been awake enough it may have registered that he was expected for dinner downstairs at some point, but he was half lost in the dream of the warm arms and the soft, gentle hands stroking his hair, sweet breath in his flushing ear. He dozed off again, rolling onto his belly to rub his dream-induced erection into the covers.

He didn't hear anything, he didn't see or _feel_ anything in his blissful escape. That was, until a harsh grip seized his shoulders an flipped him roughly onto his back. Harry gasped, crying out as he was torn from his sleep. He struggled against the arm that held him, that pinned him by chest spitefully to the bed. He blinked sleepily upwards, making out a hazy blur of blond hair. Evidently _some time _was up, and Draco was back.

"What the fuck are you _doing?_!" Harry snarled, reaching for his glasses on the side-table, but when he tried Draco pressed harder on his chest, so that it felt like his ribs might break! "Stop it – you're hurting–" He was cut off as Draco knelt over his chest, holding him there by closing his thighs tightly around his body, the fingers of his now free hand shoving roughly into Harry's mouth keep it open.

****CENSORED. FOR THE FULL CHAPTER WITH LOVE SCENES PLEASE SEE THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE****

Harry blanched, sickened by the smell and the feel and the _taste_. He bolted upright the second Draco moved away, wiping his face furiously as he reached for the side – for his wand. It was not there. A growl of frustration tore from his mouth and he snatched up his glasses instead, sliding them on his nose to better search for it, but his wand was nowhere in sight. Instead, he looked up to Malfoy, his mouth opening to hurl abuse, but whatever he was about to say stuck in his throat as he realised he wasn't alone in the room.

The two giggling voices from over Draco's shoulder caught Harry's attention. Two girls stood naked beyond Draco. _A couple of his whores_, Harry thought instantly with the first look. Both of them moved closer to Draco and began laying wet, meaningless kisses over his cheeks, running there painted finger nails over his torso. The blond smiled. Harry looked horrified.

Draco turned to the side and kissed the girl to the left of him, the one with the long, dirty-blonde ringlets and then back to the brunette on his right. Kissing women looked so different, he was gentle and kind, none of the things he gave Harry when he'd forced their lips together…

"So, sleepy head, have a nice dream?" One of the girls asked, rather cutely actually. Harry just grunted at her in revulsion.

He flushed darkly at the way they were eyeing him as well as Draco, while they stretched themselves along the blond's body like a pair of cats. Perhaps he would not have been so quick to judge, if they were not in his bedroom crawling all over a married man, and he, Harry (the spouse) quite obviously _not_ wanting him there. He felt sickened as he watched their hands and mouths slide over Draco's skin. Something ugly, and _wrong_ knotted in his stomach, creeping up his throat, hot, bitter and revolting like bile.

"Get out," he snarled at the two girls, rather than Draco. "Get out!" By Merlin, this emotion, he'd felt it but a few times before but _never_ with this ferocity. Maybe the intensity of this…whatever this was between them increased it's fury, but he couldn't bear it. He didn't love Malfoy, he didn't even_ want_ him but seeing these women practically writhe over his skin like maggots made him dizzy and sick with…_jealousy._ Perhaps if he weren't so messed up, so thoroughly_ fucked in the head _from last night, from losing his virginity in the most brutal, vile way at the hands of this man, perhaps if they weren't so distinctly rubbing it in his face he would not feel this burning feeling. The reasons meant little, since he _was_ feeling it regardless, all-too potently.

When they simply leered at him Harry flew to his feet, only to have Malfoy shove him roughly to the bed. "Your vows say that I have to give you my body, it doesn't say that I have to watch you fuck your whores. I don't have to watch this, and I _won't_!"  
Malfoy's lips twisted with a smirk. He was getting a reaction out of Harry, a very powerful, delicious reaction indeed. That was much better than the resigned look of impassiveness he had glimpsed on their wedding day…

The sly slytherin pulled out his wand and aimed it at the door, locking it with a swift charm – now Harry had no escape without his wand. Draco shrugged the women off then and climbed seductively over the bed towards Harry, who fought like a caged tiger as he pinned him there. The foreboding smile never faded from the blond's lips.

He craned his neck and licked leisurely over Harry's naked torso. Harry shivered, but refused to give in and cry out, even when Draco's tongue hurried over those dusty nipples and sucked. The two whores beside him shuffled closer and sat on the bed next to him. Naked as they were, they started to rub themselves distractedly before drifting to Draco and beginning to undress him.

Harry winced as Draco's mouth dipped down his sternum, tugging at his navel piercing teasingly until Harry gasped. He had to let Draco have him, when he wanted, wherever he wanted, he had _sworn_ it, and whilst he didn't have to watch Malfoy play with his hired toys, he _did_ have to stay if Malfoy wanted to use him. He cringed at the thought, longing for the blissful state of unaware the bastard had ripped him from.

"I don't… For Heaven's _sake_! You had me last night and this morning! How can you possibly want it again already?!"

Malfoy merely smirked against his skin, dipping his tongue into his bellybutton before descending to breathe heavily over the unresponsive area beneath Harry's underwear. He wasn't reacting in that way at least, not yet…

Despairing at the stinging at the back of his eyes, Harry hissed in anguish, shoving Malfoy back from his body. "No!" He snarled, crawling as far up the headboard as he could go. "I'm not – I won't! I'm not one of your sluts! I fuck you because I have to, but that's all it is! I'll never want you – and I'll never do _this_!" He gestured to the two girls who seemed positively intoxicated by Draco's need to force him to cooperate. Harry sneered, what type of perverts had Malfoy picked up?! _Sick enough people to want to share in raping his husband, _his mind supplied bitterly.

The two girls walked either side of Harry and restrained his hands before magically conjuring a thick, silky cord and tying his wrists to the headboard. Harry struggled, snarled but couldn't break free, still dazed and half asleep from the relaxation draught Narcissa had innocently given him. He was to weak to break free, but that didn't stop him giving a bloody good try. Draco's smile intensified when the girls bound him to the bed.

"What a cute belly-button piercing," The blond girl hummed when she ran her hand over Harry's t-shirt, and underneath.

Draco turned to retrieve the box that sat at the end of the bed and opened it, pulling out his 'piercing kit'. His grey, foreboding eyes stared devilishly into Harry's.

"W-What are you doing?" Harry gasped, his eyes wide as he struggled against his bonds. One of the girls slid her hand over his nipple, pinching teasingly while the other caressed his navel piercing gently. He winced at the feel of those smooth hands over him, it felt weird, and Draco's steel-grey eyes piercing his soul as he approached only made him shudder in apprehension of what was to come.

Suddenly, one of the girl's hands descended over his limp cock and he snarled in humiliation at her fondling him. "Stop! Get the hell off me!" He sneered at her, instead of Draco this time, but when he looked back to Draco, the ominous glare had faded into something. Draco didn't seem to want these girls touching his body anymore than was required…

"Stop that!" Draco shouted at the girl, who stopped suddenly when he spoke. "Don't touch him unless I say so…" He hissed, and both girls stood back slightly. He handed them both a needle and clamp, along with thin, silver rings. Draco crawled over Harry and breathed heavily over his cock through the material of his trousers. Harry felt a sharp pinching on both of his nipples – there was so much happening around him at once he could barely keep track of them all.

The cold metal sent chills all over Harry's stomach but it mixed with the heated feeling from below and it confused him. "I'm gonna show you what is meant by pain for pleasure, Mr _Malfoy_," Draco grinned.

"Don't!" Harry gasped out, his voice quiet and wavering. He winced at the _obvious_ events that were about to occur, and at sickening, plummeting sensation in his gut as he realised – he was relieved that those girls weren't touching the bastard anymore. _So fucked up_, Harry heard his mind whisper…

"Malfoy – Draco, don't! I'll do whatever you…" He chewed his lip, holding onto his begging as long as he could, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "Get rid of them you _twat_!" He whispered, his words dancing across Draco's lips as they hovered but a hairsbreadth from his own. Harry scanned the blond's face, seeing the wicked thoughts reeling behind those eyes as his wide, green gaze studied him carefully. Humiliation coloured his cheeks and he waited, his breaths coming out in pants as he waited for Draco to answer.

"So you don't mind the clamps on your nipples, but when two beautiful girls are involved, you really don't want to know? You're more of a pouf then I thought," Draco teased, and nodded for the girls to begin.

Slowly, the girl on the left of him pressed the pointed needle into the skin of Harry's hard, tan nub. The sharp tip pierced slowly through the skin and Harry screamed when she yanked and forced it through the unwilling flesh. Blood rushed and trickled down from the wound, a shining, platinum bar now sitting through the middle of his nipple, sending jerks of intimate pain through his chest.

Harry was breathing heavily, the laboured pants all but stifled by the sound of Draco's chuckling.

"Argh! No!" Harry screamed, turning his head away from where blood wept from the wound, and another needle was pressing into his other one. He panicked. He felt his body stiffen, he felt Draco's breath over his skin and his eyes fixed on that storm-grey gaze. "Why are you doing this to me?" He panted, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Because I enjoy it.." Draco said simply. "That's why." His smirked broadened when the woman on the right side continued the same process on his remaining nipple.

****CENSORED. FOR THE FULL CHAPTER WITH LOVE SCENES PLEASE SEE THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE****

Harry sneered at the sight, moving to turn his head away once more, but the girl's fingers tugged at his freshly pierced nipples and he gasped, glaring in furious confusion at her.

"Don't turn your pretty face away, baby," she cooed, her eyes tracing his naked torso. Harry watched her and then Draco and his whore for a moment, before smiling broadly. He raised his leg swiftly, knocking the girl caressing him forwards onto his body. She giggled and he was sure to throw a smirk over her shoulder at Draco – who was distinctly watching now.

Her mouth was too wet and too…_everywhere_. Harry didn't have much experience but he'd had enough the last…_day_ to know it felt a little gross. The girl panted over his mouth, her teeth clashing with his, but it had the same effect, Draco looked livid.

"Stop!" Draco gasped. He threw the brunette clinging to him aside and rushed over to the blond who had her hands all over Harry. He seized her arm roughly and ripped her away from his husband's body. Both women looked at Draco in shock, frozen still in fear of the furious flame burning in his eyes.

He sighed exasperatedly, as if every touch they had laid on _his husband_ had left a searing mark on his own flesh. Bolting from the bed, he shoved them unceremoniously towards the door. "Get out – get out of my house! Have the bloody elf escort you off my property! GET OUT!" The slytherin bellowed and both women hurried out the door, their clothes clutched to their bare chests.

Draco huffed in indignation, slamming the bedroom door so hard the walls trembled, before approaching the bed again. As casually as if Harry were invisible to on the edge of the mattress, he slumped forwards and rested his head in his hands – massaging his temples.

"What a pain. I tell them no and they touch you anyway…_women_," Draco sighed, looking sideways over his shoulder at Harry (still bound, but leaning on his arms to support himself a little better) and smiled devilishly. "You have no idea how sexy you look…pathetic, but sexy," Draco admitted. Harry's eyes widened at the abrupt announcement.

"W-What?" Harry asked, his smugness at getting to Malfoy wavering at the evident complement in that statement. He shifted uncomfortably back against the headboard, closing his legs as Draco stared at him. There was a look in those eyes that had him beyond confused. It was quite obvious the blond wanted him to himself, at _his_ mercy, so why pull such a stunt in the first place?

"Thanks for the wake-up call," Harry murmured sarcastically, tugging at the ropes holding him to the bed slightly. "I was having such a nice dream as well…"

Draco gave him that part smile. "But it was such a beautiful awakening, don't you think?" Draco asked, genuinely, like he was serious. He watched Harry cringe and his smirk broadened. "Surely my cum isn't that disgusting?" Draco began, "I can think of _far_ worse flavours."

Harry remained silent at that.

"How about we doublecheck, to see if I taste that bad?" Draco snarled, climbing back over Harry...

****CENSORED. FOR THE FULL CHAPTER WITH LOVE SCENES PLEASE SEE THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE****

As he drew back, Malfoy's panting, post-orgasmic breaths dusted his cheeks and he collapsed into the sheets. And it hit him. He hadn't protested. He hadn't struggled, begged for all he was worth to escape… _I gave in_, Harry thought, the delicious after-sensations that had been rushing through his body in soft tingles shoved brutally away by the harsh reality.

_What have I done?_

He flinched when Draco brought him into his chest (in a moment of unthinking, after-glow daze). He felt his stomach plummet, felt bile creep up his throat at the feel of Draco's semen drizzling from his stretched, gaping hole. "Oh god…" He gasped, the words followed by a wretched, dry sob. He remembered all too clear, the cruelty in Draco Malfoy's eyes as he had awoken him, had ripped him from comfort and raped him, had tortured him with needles…and he, _Harry _had liked it, had initiated it in the end…

_Falling for Malfoy's fake seduction, being deceived by his romantic gestures, foolish little boy, seduced by his _pleasure…

Draco fell breathlessly into the sheets beside Harry with a thump. Sweat drizzled over his skin and dripped into the duvet beneath him. He rolled onto his back and stared blearily at the canopy, slowly coming down from the white-hot hurricane he'd been swept up in. Glancing sideways at Harry, he could not help but see the anxiety, the discomfort twisting those features. "You look upset," He asked, but recieved no answer and so he slid off the bed to his feet.

"Want a drink?" Draco asked abruptly, startling and Harry raised a brow as he regarded him closely, bemused. Draco shrugged. "I'm going to get a drink, do you want one?" He asked again, and Harry could not help but remained dazed at his uncharacteristic offer. Even though it was a small thing, it seemed like a massive shower of kindness, like the kisses, like the hand to his cheek after the pain he had suffered the last few days.

_Sex must have addled his brain,_ Harry thought bitterly.

"Y-Yes," Harry replied warily, not quite sure how this was going to end. Draco seemed just as amazed with his abnormal meekness as he was with the blond's chivalry and in light of the milestone of kindness, he added quickly, "Please." He took a moment after watching Draco leave, studying the closed door for an extended, silent moment, before reaching for his wand on the side table.

"_Episkey_!" He chanted as he aimed his wand at himself, and felt all of his minor injuries fade blissfully. The rawness in his backside remained, but it didn't throb with blistering agony as it had after the first time. He waited for a moment, then cleaned his body of unnecessary fluids before setting it and his glasses back down on the side. He lay there, for a moment in undisturbed silence.

The canopy above held his gaze, mesmerising him. I can't give in to him every time he throws me an ounce of kindness, he thought determinedly, but knowing he would sway at the next sign. Malfoy was complex, more deep and scarred than outwardly seen, and as well as pity, Harry empathised with him.

_Ron always did say I was too soft, _he thought sadly, remembering his friends' faces as he had allowed Malfoy to shut the door on them. _I asked him to do it, _he recalled, ashamed to realise that he had been relieved when Malfoy had done it. He couldn't allow them to see, he could fall, he could break under Malfoy's hands but they could never see how badly – _never._

But then it hit him, as hard as the slap in the face he'd received earlier. They could never see, never know,_ just_ as they had never known how severely worn – _fractured _he had been after the war ended. They could never know why it was so easy for him to be broken. It was as if he were cracked china after Voldemort had fallen, collecting dust on a shelf until Draco barged through and applied just the slightest pressure…

The door opened and Draco returned, pausing on the threshold to regard him thoughtfully before kicking the door closed. Harry sat upright, warily reaching to take the glass of water Draco offered. He accepted it, slowly bringing it to his lips whilst keeping his emerald gaze fixed on those grey ones that were studying him. This all seemed too good to be true…

_Narcissa said he was obsessed with you, _his mind reminded him, the meaning behind the gleam in her eyes earlier that day, suddenly becoming apparent as he lowered the glass, never breaking eye-contact. "Thank you," he said meaningfully, waiting quietly for an answer, for movement – _anything._

The blond ignored Harry's thanks, walked round to the bedside table and pulled out his pill box. Slowly breaking the metal seal, he popped a pill out and into his hand. He threw it into the back of his throat and swallowed hard. Harry asked between a muffled swig what it was he was taking, and Draco assured him it was just a painkiller. Then he looked back at Harry and smiled worryingly.

"How's the taste?" He asked.

Harry choked on his water.

"Y-You…what did you put in this?" He asked warily, pounding his fist on his chest to ease the choking slightly. He coughed hard, until his throat was quite raw and watched as Malfoy's expression tipped up into a sly smirk. "You _dickwad_ – what have you poisoned me with?!" He leant forwards, covering his mouth as the feel of the spiked water itching his throat diminished and he was free to glare at Malfoy suspiciously, even as the blond grinned.

"Is there something about Malfoys spiking my drinks?" he asked warily, but Malfoy just looked confused. "Don't worry," he said quickly, realising that explaining Narcissa's assistance earlier would mean that Draco would know she was aware of his…less than _respectful _lifestyle aspects, and he didn't want to damage the bond his _husband_ seemed to treasure so much with his mother…

"Tell me what you just put in my drink?!" He insisted, even as he felt drowsiness overcome him and his aches fade a little. Strong, warm hands pressed on his shoulders until he lay flat on his side of the bed and then the hands shuddered away. Harry watched as Malfoy climbed under the sheets, watching him with undeniable mirth. Was the bastard_ joking_ with him?!

"Calm down, it's just a little something to relax you. You really _think_ I would poison you to death?" He asked, noticing Harry's eyebrows denting inwards, clearly suggesting Harry _did_ think that. He leant in then and pulled the covers over them both, running his fingers through his blond locks.

"I am hardly going to kill you, what a waste that would be," He said simply, his words trailing off absently as he reached into the draw and took out his wand.

"I never know what you're going to do," Harry clarified for him, laying into the exhaustion, embracing the sleeping draught but keeping his narrowed eyes on the wand in Draco's hand. "What are you going to do with me?" He asked carefully. "I mean… You cant divorce me, but I am sure you'll get bored of tormenting me eventually!"

Draco blinked at him impassively. "Not having looked that far into the future, I wouldn't know…" He paused and carefully thought out his next sentence before it finally left his lips. "But I won't just want to throw you away," He finished, deciding against sleep and climbing out of the bed. He stood there for a moment, watching the shadows of the room play games with Harry's features as a light sleep took him. He broke free of the spell quick enough, however, when he realised he'd been staring and he turned abruptly, making his way to the bathroom. He wanted a shower.

_~To Be Continued..._


End file.
